M'^^^i 


,i  t\it  W««%ial  ^,^^ 


PRINCETON,    N.    J- 


Shelf.. 


BX  9178  .S45  S4  1873 
Shedd,  William  Greenough 

Thayer,  1820-1894. 
Sermons  to  the  natural  man 


SERMONS 


TO  THE 


NATURAL    MAN 


WILLIAM  G.   T.   SHEDD,   D.D., 

ATJTnOK    OP    "a    niSTOET     OF     CHRISTIAN     DOCTKINK,'"    "  IIOMILETICS     AND    PASTORAL 
TUKOLOGT,"    "  DISCOURSES   AND   ESSAYS,"   "  PHILOSOPHY  OF   HISTORY,"    ETC. 


NEW  YORK: 
SCRIBNER,    ARMSTRONG    &    CO., 

654    BROADWAY. 

1873. 


Entered  according  to  Ac*  o' Congress,  in  the  year  1871, 
By  CHAULES  SCIUBNEU  &  CX)., 
In  tlie  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


PREFACE. 


It  is  with  a  soleinn  feeling  of  responsibility  that  I  send 
fortli  this  volume  of  Sermons.  The  ordinary  emotions  of 
authorship  have  little  place  in  the  experience,  when  one 
remembers  that  what  he  says  M'ill  be  eitlier  a  means  of 
spiritual  life,  or  an  occasion  of  spiritual  der.th. 

I  believe  that  the  substance  of  these  Discourses  will  prove 
to  accord  with  God's  revealed  truth,  in  the  day  that  will 
try  all  trutli.  The  title  indicates  their  general  aim  and 
tendency.  The  purpose  is  psychological.  I  would,  if  pos- 
sible, anatomize  the  natural  heart.  It  is  in  vain  to  offer 
the  gospel  unless  the  law  has  been  applied  M'ith  clearness 
and  cogency.  At  the  present  day,  certainly,  there  is  far 
less  danger  of  erring  in  the  direction  of  religious  severity, 
than  in  the  directi(jn  of  religious  indulgence.  If  I  have 
not  preached  redemption  in  these  sermons  so  fully  as  I 
have  analyzed  sin,  it  is  because  it  is  my  deliberate  convic- 
tion that  just  now  the  first  and  hardest  work  to  be  dune 
by  the  preacher,  for  the  natural  man,  is  to  produce  in  him 
some  sensibility  upon  the  subject  of  sin.  Conscience 
needs  to  become  consciousness.  There  is  considerable 
theoretical  unbelief  respecting  the  doctrines  of  the  New 
Testament ;  but  this  is  not  the  principal  difficulty.  The- 
oretical skepticism  is  in  a  small  minority  of  Christendom, 
and  always  has  been.  The  chief  obstacle  to  the  spread  of 
the  Christian  religion  is  the  practical  unbelief  of  specula- 


IV  PREFACE. 

tive  believers.  "  Thou  sajest," — says  John  Bnnyaii, — 
"thou  dost  in  deed  and  in  truth  believe  the  Scriptures.  I 
ask,  therefore,  Wast  thou  ever  killed  stark  dead  by  the 
law  of  works  contained  in  the  Scriptures?  Killed  by  the 
law  or  letter,  and  made  to  see  thy  sins  against  it,  and  left 
in  an  helpless  condition  by  the  law  ?  For,  the  proper 
work  of  the  law  is  to  slay  the  soul,  and  to  leave  it  dead  in 
an  helpless  state.  For,  it  doth  neither  give  the  soul  any 
comfort  itself,  when  it  comes,  nor  doth  it  show  the  soul 
where  comfort  is  to  be  had  ;  and  therefore  it  is  called  the 
'ministration  of  condemnation,'  the  '  ministration  of  death.' 
For,  though  men  may  have  a  notion  of  the  blessed  Word 
of  God,  yet  before  they  be  converted,  it  may  be  truly  said 
of  them.  Ye  err,  not  knowing  the  Scriptures,  nor  the 
power  of  God." 

If  it  be  thought  that  such  preaching  of  the  law  can  be 
dispensed  with,  by  employing  solely  what  is  called  in 
some  quarters  the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  I  do  not  agree 
with  the  opinion.  The  benefits  of  Christ's  redemption 
are  pearls  which  must  not  be  cast  before  swine.  The  gos- 
pel is  not  for  the  stupid,  or  for  the  doubter, — still  less  for 
the  scoffer.  Christ's  atonement  is  to  be  offered  to  con- 
scious guilt,  and  in  order  to  conscious  guilt  there  must  be 
the  application  of  the  decalogue.  John  Baptist  must  pre- 
pare the  way  for  the  merciful  Eedeemer,  by  legal  and 
close  preaching.  And  tbe  merciful  Redeemer  Himself, 
in  the  opening  of  His  ministry,  and  before  He  spake  much 
concerning  remission  of  sins,  preached  a  sermon  which  in 
its  searching  and  self-revelatory  character  is  a  more  alarm- 
ing address  to  the  corrupt  natural  heart,  than  was  the  first 
edition  of  it  delivered  amidst  the  lightnings  of  Sinai. 
The  Sermon  on  the  Mount  is  called  the  Sermon  of  the  Be- 
atitudes, and  many  have  the  impression  that  it  is  a  very 
lovely  song  to  the  sinful  soul  of  man.  They  forget  that 
the  blessing  upon  obedience  implies  a  curse  upon  disobedi- 
ence, and  that  every  mortal  man  has  disobeyed  the  Ser 


PREFACE.  V 

mon  on  the  Mount.  "  God  save  me," — said  a  thougbtfiil 
person  who  knew  what  is  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount, 
and  what  is  in  the  Imman  heart, — "God  save  me  from 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  when  1  am  judged  in  the  last 
day."'  When  Clirist  preached  this  discourse,  He  preaclied 
tlie  law,  principally,  "  Think  not," — He  says, — "  that  I 
am  come  to  destroy  the  law  or  the  prophets.  I  am  not 
come  to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil.  For  verily  I  say  unto  you, 
Till  heaven  and  earth  pass,  one  jot  or  one  tittle  shall  in 
no  wise  pass  from  the  law  till  all  be  fuliilled."  John  the 
Baptist  describes  his  own  preaching,  which  was  confess- 
edly severe  and  legal,  as  being  far  le<ss  searching  than  that 
of  the  Messiah  wdiose  near  advent  he  announced.  "  I  in- 
deed baptize  you  with  water  unto  repentance :  but  he 
that  cometh  after  rae  is  niightier  than  I,  whose  shoes  I 
am  not  worthy  to  bear :  he  shall  baptize  you  with  the 
Holy  Ghost  and  with^^'6^ ;  whose/'cr^i  is  in  his  hand,  and 
he  will  thoroiKjJthj  purge  his  floor,  and  gather  his  wheat 
into  the  garner;  but  he  will  hum  uj)  the  chaff  with  un- 
quenchable Are." 

Tiie  ireneral  burden  and  strain  of  the  Discourse  with 
which  the  Redeemer  opened  His  ministry  is  preceptive 
and  mandatory.  Its  key-note  is  :  "  Thou  slialt  do  this," 
and,  "Thou  shalt  not  do  that;"  "Thou  shalt  be  thus,  in 
thine  heart,"  and,  "  Thou  shalt  not  be  thus,  in  thine  heart." 
So  little  is  said  in  it,  comparatively,  concerning  what  are 
called  the  doctrines  of  grace,  that  it  has  often  been  ciled 
to  prove  that  the  creed  of  the  Church  has  been  expandiu 
unduly,  and  made  to  contain  more  than  the  Founder  o. 
Christianity  really  intended  it  should.  The  absence,  U. 
example,  of  any  direct  and  specific  statement  of  the  flo^ 
trine  of  Atonement,  in  this  important  section  of  Christ's 
teaching,  has  been  instanced  by  the  Socinian  opponent  iis 
proof  that  this  doctrine  is  not  so  vital  as  the  Church  h;is 
always  claimed  it  to  be.  But,  Christ  was  purposely  silent 
respecting  grace  and  its  methods,  until  he  had  sjni'Uual- 


VI  PREFACE. 

ized  law,  and  made  it  penetrate  the  human  consciousness 
like  a  sliarp  sword.  Of  what  nse  would  it  have  been  to 
offer  mercy,  before  the  sense  of  its  need  liad  been  elicited  1 
and  how  was  this  to  be  elicited,  but  bj  the  solemn  and 
authoritative  enunciation  of  law  and  justice?  There  are, 
indeed,  cheering  intimations,  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount, 
respecting  the  Divine  mercy,  and  bo  there  are  in  connec- 
tion Avith  the  giving  of  the  Ten  Commandments.  But 
law,  rather  than  grace,  is  the  main  substance  and  burden 
of  both.  The  great  intention,  in  each  instance,  is  to  con- 
vince of  sin,  preparatory  to  the  offer  of  clemency.  The 
Decalogue  is  the  legal  basis  of  the  Old  Dispensation,  and 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  is  the  legal  basis  of  the  New. 
When  the  Redeemer,  in  the  openfng  of  His  ministry,  had 
provided  the  apparatus  of  conviction,  then  He  provided 
the  apparatus  of  expiation.  The  Great  High-Priest,  like 
the  Levitical  priest  who  typified  Him,  did  not  sprinkle 
atoning  blood  indiscriminately.  It  was  to  bedew  only 
him  who  felt  and  confessed  guilt. 

This  legal  and  minatory  element  in  the  words  of  Jesus 
has  also  been  noticed  by  the  skeptic,  and  an  argument  has 
been  founded  upon  it  to  prove  that  He  was  soured  by  ill- 
success,  and,  like  other  merely  human  reformers  who  have 
found  the  human  heart  too  hard  for  them,  fell  away  from 
the  gentleness  with  which  He  began  His  ministry,  into 
the  anger  and  denunciation  of  mortified  ambition  with 
which  it  closed.  This  is  the  picture  of  Jesus  Christ  which 
Renan  presents  in  his  apocryphal  Gospel.  But  tlie  fact 
is,  that  the  Redeemer  hegan  with  law,  and  was  rigorous 
v¥ith  sin  from  the  very  first.  The  Sermon  on  the  Mount 
>»as  delivered  not  far  from  twelve  montlis  from  the  time 
of  His  inauguration,  by  baptism,  to  the  office  of  Messiah. 
And  all  along  through  His  ministry  of  three  years  and  a 
half.  He  constantly  employs  the  law  in  order  to  prepare 
Liis  hearers  for  grace.  He  was  as  gentle  and  gracious  to 
the  penitent  sinner,  in  the  opening  of  His  ministry,  as  he 


PEEFACE.  VU 

was  at  the  close  of  it ;  and  lie  was  as  unsparing  and  se- 
vere towards  the  hardened  and  self-rio'hteous  sinner,  in 
His  early  Juda^an,  as  He  was  in  His  later  Galilean 
ministry. 

It  is  sometimes  said  that  the  surest  way  to  produce  con- 
viction of  sin  is  to  preach  the  Cross.  Tnere  is  a  sense  in 
which  this  is  true,  and  there  is  a  sense  in  wliich  it  is  false. 
If  the  Cross  is  set  forth  as  tlie  cursed  tree  on  which  the 
Lord  of  Gk)ry  hung  and  suftered,  to  satisfy  the  demands 
of  Eternal  Justice,  then  indeed  there  is  fitness  in  the 
preaching  to  produce  the  sense  of  guilt.  But  this  is  to 
preach  the  law^  in  its  fullest  extent,  and  the  most  tremen- 
dous energy  of  its  claims.  Such  discourse  as  this  must 
necessarily  analyze  law,  deiine  it,  enforce  it,  and  apply  it 
in  the  most  cogent  manner.  For,  only  as  the  atonement 
of  Christ  is  shown  to  completely  meet  and  satisfy  all  these 
legal  demands  which  have  been  so  thoroughly  discussed 
and  exhibited,  is  the  real  virtue  and  power  of  the  Crosa 
made  manifest. 

But  if  the  Cross  is  merely  held  up  as  a  decorative  orna- 
ment, like  that  on  the  breast  of  Belinda,  "  which  Jews 
might  kiss  and  infidels  adore;"  if  it  be  proclaimed  as  the 
beautiful  symbol  of  the  Divine  indifference  and  indul- 
gence, and  there  be  a  studious  avoiding  of  all  judicial  as- 
pects and  relations;  if  the  natural  man  is  not  searched  by 
law  and  alarmed  by  justice,  but  is  only  soothed  and  nar- 
cotized by  the  idea  of  an  Epicurean  deity  destitute  of 
moral  anger  and  inilicting  no  righteous  retribution, — then, 
there  will  be  no  conviction  of  sin.  Whenever  the  preach- 
ing of  the  law  is  positively  ohjected  to,  and  the  preaching 
of  the  gospel  is  proposed  in  its  place,  it  will  be  foun«l 
that  the  "gospel"  means  that  good-nature  and  that  easy 
virtue  which  some  mortals  dare  to  attribute  to  the  Holy 
and  Immaculate  Godhead  !  He  who  really,  and  in  good 
faith,  preaches  the  Cross,  never  opposes  the  preaching  of 
the  law. 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

Still  another  reason  for  the  kind  of  religious  disconrsc 
which  we  are  defending  is  found  in  the  fact  that  multi- 
tudes are  expecting  a  happy  issue  of  this  life,  upon  ethical 
as  distinguished  from  evangelical  grounds.  They  deny 
that  they  deserve  damnation,  or  that  they  need  Christ's 
atonement.  They  say  that  they  are  living  virtuous  lives, 
and  are  ready  to  adopt  language  similar  to  that  of  Mr. 
Mill  spoken  in  another  connection  :  "If  from  this  position 
of  integrity  and  morality  vre  are  to  be  sent  to  hell,  to  hell 
we  will  .go."  This  tendency  is  strengthened  by  the  cur- 
rent light  letters,  in  distinction  from  standard  literature. 
A  certain  class,  through  ephemeral  essays,  poems,  and 
novels,  has  been  plied  with  the  doctrine  of  a  natural  vir- 
tue and  an  innate  goodness,  until  it  has  become  proud  and 
self-reliant.  The  "manhood  "  of  paganism  is  glorified,  and 
the  "  childhood  "  of  the  gospel  is  vililied.  The  graces  of 
humility,  self-abasement  before  God,  and  especially  of 
penitence  for  sin,  are  distasteful  and  loathed.  Persons  of 
this  order  prefer  to  have  their  religious  teacher  silent  upon 
these  themes,  and  urge  them  to  courage,  honor,  magna- 
nimity, and  all  that  class  of  qualities  which  imply  self- 
consciousness  and  self-reliance.  To  them  apply  the  sol- 
emn w^ords  of  the  8on  of  God  to  the  Pharisees  :  "  If  ye 
were  blind,  ye  should  have  no  sin :  but  now  ye  say,  We 
sce^  therefore  your  sin  remaineth." 

It  is,  therefore,  specially  incumbent  upon  the  Christian 
ministry,  to  employ  a  searching  and  psychological  style  of 
preaching,  and  to  apply  the  tests  of  ethics  and  virtue  so 
powerfully  to  men  who  are  trusting  to  ethics  and  virtue, 
as  to  bring  them  upon  tlieir  knees.  Since  these  men  are 
desiring,  like  the  '"  foolish  Galatians,"  to  be  saved  by  the 
law,  then  let  the  law  be  laid  down  to  them,  in  all  its 
breadth  and  reach,  that  they  may  understand  the  real  na- 
ture and  consequences  of  the  position  they  have  taken. 
"Tell  me," — says  a  preacher  of  this  stamp, — "tell  me, 
ye  that  desire  to  be  under  the  law,  do   ye  not  hear  the 


PEEFACE.  .  IX 

law," — do  ye  not  liear  its  thundering, — "c?/r5e<:Zis  every- 
one that  continneth  not  in  ALL  things  that  are  written 
in  the  Lxw,  to  do  them  ! ''  Virtue  must  be  absolutely  per- 
fect and  spotless,  it"  a  happy  immortality  is  to  be  made  to 
depend  upon  virtue.  If  the  human  heart,  in  its  self-de- 
ception and  self-reliance,  turns  away  from  the  Cross  and 
the  righteousness  of  God,  to  morals  and  the  righteousness 
of  works,  then  let  the  Christian  thinker  follow  after  it  like 
the  avenger  of  blood.  Let  him  set  the  heights  and  depths 
of  ethical j?e/ifectio/i.  before  the  deluded  mortal;  let  him 
point  to  the  inaccessible  cliffs  that  tower  high  above,  and 
bid  him  scale  them  if  he  can  ;  let  him  point  to  the  tatiiom- 
less  abysses  beneath,  and  tell  him  to  descend  and  bring  up 
perfect  virtue  therefrom  ;  let  him  employ  the  very  instru- 
ment which  this  virtuoso  has  chosen,  until  it  becomes  an 
instrument  of  torture  and  seli-despair.  In  this  way,  he  is 
breaking  down  the  "  manhood  "  that  confronts  and  op- 
poses, and  is  bringing  in  the  "  childhood  "  that  is  docile, 
and  recipient  of  the  kingdom. 

These  Sermons  run  the  hazard  of  being  pronounced 
monotonous,  because  of  the  pertinacity  with  which  the 
attempt  is  made  to  force  self- reflection.  But  this  criti- 
cism can  easily  be  endured,  provided  the  attempt  succeeds. 
Religious  truth  becomes  almighty  the  instant  it  can  get 
loith'ni  the  soul;  and  it  gets  within  the  soul,  the  instant 
real  thinking  begins.  "  As  you  value  your  peace  of  mind, 
stop  all  scrutiny  into  your  personal  character,"  is  the  ad- 
vice of  what  Milton  denominates  "  the  sty  of  Epicurus." 
The  discouraging  religious  condition  of  the  present  age  is 
due  to  the  great  lack,  not  merely  in  the  lower  but  the 
higher  classt^s,  of  calm,  clear  self-intelligence.  Men  do 
not  know  themselves.  The  Delphic  oracle  was  never  less 
obeyed  than  now,  in  this  vortex  of  mechanical  arts  and 
luxury.  For  this  reason,  it  is  desirable  that  the  religious 
teacher  dwell  consecutively  upon  topics  that  are  connected 
with  that  which  is  within  man, — his  settled  motives  of 
1* 


X  .  PEEFACE. 

action,  and  all  those  spontaneous  on-goings  of  his  soul  of 
which  he  takes  no  notice,  unless  he  is  persuaded  or  im- 
pelled to  do  so.  Some  of  the  old  painters  produced  pow- 
erful effects  bj  one  solitary  color.  The  subject  of  moral 
evil  contemplated  in  the  heart  of  the  individual  man, — 
not  described  to  him  from  the  outside,  but  wrought  out 
of  his  own  being  into  incandescent  letters,  by  the  fierce 
chemistry  of  anxious  perhaps  agonizing  reflection, — sin, 
the  one  awful  fact  in  the  history  of  man,  if  caused  to  per- 
vade discourse  will  always  impart  to  it  a  hue  which, 
though  it  be  monochromatic,  arrests  and  holds  the  eye 
like  the  lurid  color  of  an  approaching  storm-cloud. 

With  this  statement  respecting  the  aim  and  purport  of 
these  Sermons,  and  deeply  conscious  of  their  imperfections, 
especially  for  spiritual  purposes,  I  send  them  out  into  the 
world,  with  the  prayer  that  God  the  Spirit  will  deign  to 
employ  them  as  the  means  of  awakening  some  souls  from 
the  letliargy  of  sin. 

Union  Theological  Seminary, 

New  York,  February  11,  1871. 


PHIITOEITOIT   ^. 


HSOLOGIOiLL  f 


.  .ikV**"**"  ■ 


CONTENTS. 


PAOB 

I.  The  future  state  a  self-conscious  state 1 

II.  The  future  state  a  self-conscious  state  (continued) 23 

III.  God's  exhaustive  knowledge  of   iian 40 

IV".  God's  exhaustive  knowledge  of   man  (continued) 59 

V.  All  mankind  guilty;  or,  every  man  knows  more  than 

HE  practises 78 

VI.  Sin  in  the  heart  the  socRCFi  of  error  in  the  head....  101 

TIL  The  necessity  of  Divine  influences 123 

VIII.  The  necessity  of  Divine  influences  (continued) 141 

IX.  The  impotence  of  the  law 161 

X.  Self-scrutiny  in  God's  presence 181 

XI.  Sin  is  spiritual  slavery 202 

XII.  The  original  and  the  actual  relation  of  man  to  law..  231 

XIII.  The  sin  of  omission 249 

XIV.  The  sinfulness  of  origin.^vl  sin 267 

XV.  The  approbation  of  goodness  is  not  the  love  of  it  ... .  285 

XVI.  The  use  of  fear  in  religion 308 

XVII.  The  present  life  as  related  to  the  future 335 

XVIII.  The  exercise  of  mercy  optional  with  God 358 

XIX.  ChristianiiY  requires  th^  temper  of  childhood 379 

XX.  Faith  the  sole  saving  act 401 


fti-C.  APR  1882 

TIISOLOGICAL  i 

SERMONS. 


THE  FUTCTRE  STATE  A  SELF-CONSCIOUS  STATE. 


1  Cor.  xiii.  12. — "Now  I  know  in  part;  but  then  shall  I  know  even  as 
also  I  am  known." 


The  apostle  Paul  iiuide  this  remark  with  refei 
ence  to  the  blessedness  of  the  Christian  in  eternity. 
Such  assertions  are  frequent  in  the  Scriptures.  This 
same  apostle,  whose  soul  was  so  constantly  dilated 
with  the  expectation  of  the  beatific  vision,  assures 
tlie  Corinthians,  in  another  passage  in  this  epistle, 
that  "eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  have 
entered  into  the  heart  of  man  the  things  which  God 
hath  j)rej)ared  for  them  that  love  Him."  The  be- 
loved disciple  John,  also,  though  he  seems  to  have 
lived  in  the  spiritual  world  while  he  was  upon  the 
earth,  and  though  the  glories  of  eternity  were  made 
to  pass  before  him  in  the  visions  of  Patmos,  is  com- 
pelled to  say  of  the  sons  of  God,  "  It  doth  not  yet 
appear  what  we  shall  be."     And  certainly  the  com- 


I  THE    FUTURE    STATE 

mon  Christian,  as  lie  looks  forward  with  a  mixture 
of  hope  and  anxiety  to  his  final  state  in  eternity, 
will  confess  that  he  knows  but  "  in  part,"  and  that 
a  very  small  part,  concerning  it.  He  endures  as 
seeing  that  which  is  invisible,  and  cherishes  the  hope 
that  througli  Christ's  redemption  his  eternity  will 
be  a  condition  of  peace  and  purity,  and  that  he  shall 
know  even  as  also  he  is  known. 

But  it  is  not  the  Christian  alone  who  is  to  enter 
eternity,  and  to  whom  the  exchange  of  worlds  will 
bring  a  luminous  apprehension  of  many  things  that 
have  hithei'to  been  seen  only  through  a  glass  dark- 
ly. Every  human  creature  may  say,  when  he  thinks 
of  the  alteration  that  will  come  over  his  views  of  re- 
ligious subjects  upon  entering  another  life,  "Now 
I  know  in  part;  but  then  shall  I  know  even  as  also 
I  am  known.  I  am  now  in  the  midst  of  the  vapors 
and  smoke  of  this  dim  spot  which  men  call  earth, 
but  then  shall  I  stand  in  the  dazzling  light  of  the 
face  of  God,  and  labor  under  no  doubt  or  delusion 
respecting  my  own  character  or  that  of  my  Eternal 
Judge.'' 

A  moment's  refl.ection  will  convince  any  one,  that 
the  article  and  fact  of  death  must  of  itself  make  a 
vast  accession  to  the  amount  of  a  man's  knowledge, 
because  death  introduces  him  into  an  entirely  new 
state  of  existence.  Foreio;n  travel  adds  much  to  our 
stock  of  ideas,  because  we  go  into  regions  of  the 
earth  of  which  we  had  previously  known  only  by 
the  heai'ing  of  the  ear.     But  the  great  and  last  jour- 


A    SELF-CONSCIOUS    STATE.  3 

ney  that  man  takes  carries  hiai  over  into  a  province 
of  which  no  book,  not  even  the  Bible  itself,  gives 
hira  any  distinct  cognition,  as  to  the  style  of  its 
scenery  or  the  texture  of  its  objects.  In  respect  to 
any  earthly  scene  or  experience,  all  men  stand  upon 
substantially  the  same  level  of  information,  because 
they  all  have  substantially  the  same  data  for  form- 
ing an  estimate.  Though  I  may  never  have  been 
in  Italy,  I  yet  know  that  the  soil  of  Italy  is  a  jmrt 
of  the  common  crust  of  the  globe,  that  the  Apen- 
nines are  like  other  mountains  which  I  have  seen, 
that  the  Italian  sunlight  pours  through  the  pupil 
like  any  other  sunlight,  and  that  the  Italian  breezes 
fan  the  brow  like  those  of  the  sunny  south  the 
world  over.     I  understand  that  tlie  o-eneral  forms 

o 

of  human  consciousness  in  Europe  and  Asia,  are 
like  those  in  America.  The  operations  of  the  five 
senses  are  the  same  in  the  Old  World  that  they 
are  in  the  New.  But  what  do  I  kno\v  of  the  sur- 
roundings and  experience  of  a  man  who  has  trav- 
elled from  time  into  etei'nity  ?  Am  I  not  complete- 
ly baffled,  the  moment  I  attempt  to  construct  the 
consciousness  of  the  unearthly  state  ?  I  have  no 
materials  out  of  which  to  build  it,  because  it  is  not 
a  world  of  sense  and  matter,  like  that  which  I  now 
inhabit. 

But  death  carries  man  over  into  the  new  and  en- 
tirely different  mode  of  existence,  so  that  he  knows 
by  direct  observation  and  immediate  intuition.  A 
flood  of  new  infoj'mation  pours  in  upon  the  disem- 


4-  THE   rUTUEE    STATE 

bodied  spirit,  such  as  he  cannot  by  any  possibility 
acquire  upon  earth,  and  yet  such  as  he  cannot  by 
any  possibility  escape  from  in  his  new  residence. 
How  strange  it  is,  that  the  young  child,  the  infant 
of  days,  in  the  heart  of  Africa,  by  merely  dying,  by 
merely  passing  from  time  into  eternity,  acquires  a 
kind  and  grade  of  knowledge  that  is  absolutely  in- 
accessible to  the  wisest  and  subtlest  philosopher 
while  here  on  earth  !  ^  The  dead  Hottentot  knows 
more  than  the  livino;  Plato. 

But  not  only  does  the  exchange  of  worlds  make 
a  vast  addition  to  our  stores  of  information  respect- 
ing the  nature  of  the  invisible  realm,  and  the  mode 
of  existence  there,  it  also  makes  a  vast  addition  to 
the  kind  and  degree  of  our  knowledge  respecting 
ourselves,  and  our  personal  relationships  to  God. 
This  is  by  far  the  most  important  part  of  the  new 
acquisition  which  we  gain  by  the  passage  from  time 
to  eternity,  and  it  is  to  this  that  the  Apostle  directs 
attention  in  the  text.  It  is  not  so  much  the  world 
that  will  be  around  us,  when  we  are  l)eyond  the 
tomb,  as  it  is  the  world  that  will  be  within  us,  that 
is  of  chief  importance.  Our  circumstances  in  this 
mode  of  existence,  and  in  any  mode  of  existence,  are 
arranged  by  a  Power  above  us,  and  are,  compara- 
tively, matters  of  small   concern ;  but  the  persona 

*  "  She  has  seen  the  mystery  hid, 
Under  Egypt's  pyramid ; 
By  those  eyelids  pale  and  close, 
Now  she  knows  what  Rhamses  knows." 

Elizabeth  Browning  :  On  the  Death  of  a  Child. 


A    SELF-CONSCIOUS    STATE.  0 

tliat  we  ourselves  verily  are,  the  characters  whicli 
we  bring  "into  this  environment,  the  little  inner 
world  of  tlioiio-ht  an. I  feeling;  whicli  is  to  Ijc  in- 
closed  and  ovd'arclied  in  the  great  outer  world  of 
forms  and  objects, — all  this  is  matter  of  infinite  mo- 
ment and  anxiety  to  a  responsible  creature. 

For  the  text  teaches,  that  inasmuch  as  the  future 
life  is  the  ultimate  state  of  beinsi:  for  an  immortal 
spii-it,  all  that  imperfection  and  deficiency  in  knowl- 
edge which  appertains  to  this  present  life,  this  "ig- 
norant present^'  time,  must  disappear.  When  we 
are  in  eternity,  we  shall  not  be  in  the  dark  and  in 
doubt  respecting  certain  great  questions  and  truths 
that  sometimes  raise  a  query  in  our  minds  here. 
Voltaire  now  knows  whether  there  is  a  sin-hating 
God,  and  David  Hume  now  knows  whether  there 
is  an  endless  hell.  I  may,  in  certain  moods  of  my 
mind  here  upon  earth,  query  whether  I  am  ac- 
countable and  liable  to  retribution,  but  the  instant 
I  shall  pass  from  this  realm  of  shadows,  all  this 
ske[)ticism  will  be  banished  forever  from  my  mind. 
For  the  future  state  is  the  fi/ud  state,  and  hence  all 
questions  nre  settled,  and  all  doubts  are  resolved. 
While  upon  earth,  the  arrangements  are  such  that 
we  cannot  see  every  thing,  and  must  walk  by  faith, 
because  it  is  a  state  of  pro))ation  ;  but  when  once 
in  eternit}',  all  the  arrangements  are  such  that  we 
cannot  but  see  every  thing,  and  must  walk  by  sight, 
because  it  is  the  state  of  adjudication.  Hence  it  is, 
that  the  preacher  is  continually  urging  men  to  view 


6  THE    FUTURE    STATE 

tilings,  so  far  as  is  possible,  in  the  light  of  eternity, 
as  the  only  light  that  shines  clearly  and  without 
refractions.  Hence  it  is,  tljat  he  importunes  hia 
hearers  to  estimate  their  duties,  and  their  relation- 
ships, and  their  personal  character,  as  they  will 
upon  the  death-bed,  because  in  the  solemn  hour  of 
death  the  li^dit  of  the  future  state  beo;ins  to  dawn 
upon  the  human  soul. 

It  is  very  plain  that  if  a  spiritual  mau  like  the 
apostle  PmuI,  who  in  a  veiy  remarkable  degree  lived 
with  reference  to  the  future  world,  and  contemplat- 
ed subjects  in  the  light  of  eternity,  was  compelled 
to  say  that  he  knew  but  "  in  part,"  much  more  must 
the  thoughtless  natural  man  confess  his  ignorance 
of  that  which  will  meet  him  when  his  spirit  returns 
to  God.  The  great  mass  of  mankind  are  totally  va- 
cant of  any  just  apprehension  of  what  will  be  their 
state  of  mind,  upon  being  introduced  into  God's  pres- 
ence. They  have  never  seriously  considered  what 
must  be  the  etrect  upon  their  views  and  feelings,  of 
an  entire  withdrawment  from  the  scenes  and  ob- 
jects of  earth,  and  an  entrance  into  those  of  the  fu- 
ture state.  Most  men  are  wholly  engrossed  in  the 
present  existence,  and  do  not  allow  their  thoughts 
to  reach  over  into  that  invisible  region  which  rev- 
elation discloses,  and  which  the  uncontrollable 
workings  of  conscience  sometimes ybrCf?  upon  their 
attention  for  a  moment.  How  many  men  there  are, 
whose  sinful  and  thoughtless  lives  prove  that  they 
are  not  aware  that  the  future   world  will,  by  its 


A    SELF-CONSCIOUS    STATE.  7 

ver}^  characteristics,  fill  tliem  witli  a  species  and  a 
gi'ade  of  information  that  will  be  misery  unutter- 
able. Is  it  not  the  duty  and  the  wisdom  of  all  such, 
to  attempt  to  conjecture  and  anticipate  the  coming 
experience  of  the  Immau  soul  in  the  day  of  judg- 
ment and  the  future  life,  in  order  that  by  repent- 
ance toward  God  and  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  they  may  be  able  to  stand  in  that  day  ?  Let 
us  then  endeavor  to  know,  at  least  "in  part,"  con- 
cerniniT^  the  eternal  state. 

The  latter  clause  of  the  text  specifies  the  gen- 
eral characteristic  of  existence  in  the  future  world. 
It  is  a  mode  of  existence  in  which  the  rational 
mind  "  hnorvs  even  as  it  is  known."  It  is  a  world 
of  knowledge, — of  conscious  knowledge.  In  thus 
uiie(|ui\-ocally  asserting  that  our  existence  beyond 
the  tomb  is  one  of  distinct  consciousness,  revelation 
has  taught  us  what  we  most  desire  and  need  to 
know.  The  first  question  that  would  be  raised  by 
a  creature  who  was  just  to  be  launched  out  upon 
an  untried  mode  of  existence  would  be  the  ques- 
tion :  "  Shall  I  be  conscious  f"  Ilo^vever  much  he 
might  desire  to  know  the  length  and  breadth  of 
the  ocean  upon  wh'.^li  lie  was  to  set  sail,  the  scenery 
that  was  to  be  abjve  him  and  around  him  in  his 
coming  history, — nay,  however  much  he  might 
wish  to  know  of  matters  still  closer  to  himself 
than  these;  however  much  he  might  crave  to  ask 
of  his  Makei',  "  With  what  body  shall  I  come  ?"  all 
would  be  set  second  to  the  simple  single  inquiry : 


8  THE    rUTUEE    STATE 

"  SLall  I  think,  shall  I  feel,  shall  1  know  ?"  In  an- 
swering this  question  in  the  affirmative,  without 
any  hesitation  or  aml^iguity,  the  apostle  Paul  has 
in  reality  cleared  up  most  of  the  darkness  that 
overhancTS  the  future  state.  The  structure  of  the 
spiritual  body,  and  the  fabric  of  the  immaterial 
world,  are  matters  of  secondary  importance,  and 
may  be  left  without  explanation,  provided  only  the 
rational  mind  of  man  be  distinctly  informed  that 
it  shall  not  sleep  in  unconsciousness,  and  that  the 
immortal  spark  shall  not  become  such  stuff  as 
dreams  are  made  of 

The  future,  then,  is  a  mode  of  existence  in  which 
the  soul  "  knows  even  as  it  is  known."  But  this 
involves  a  perception  in  whicli  there  is  no  error, 
and  no  intermission.  For,  the  human  spirit  in 
eternity  "  is  known"  by  the  omniscient  God.  If, 
then,  it  knows  in  the  style  and  manner  that  God 
kno^vs,  there  can  be  no  misconception  or  cessation 
in  its  cognition.  Here,  then,  we  have  a  glimpse 
into  the  nature  of  our  eternal  existence.  It  is  a 
state  of  distinct  and  unceasing  knowledge  of  moral 
truth  and  moral  objects.  The  human  spirit,  be  it 
holy  or  sinful,  a  friend  or  an  enemy  of  God,  in 
eternity  will  always  and  forever  be  aware  of  it. 
There  is  no  forgetting  in  the  future  state ;  there  is 
no  dissipation  of  the  mind  there;  and  there  is  no 
aversion  of  the  mind  from  itself  The  cognition  is 
a  fixed  quantity.  Given  the  soul,  and  the  knowl- 
edo"e  is  given.     If  it  be  holy,  it  is  always  conscious 


A    SELF-CONSCIOUS    STATE.  9 

of  the  fact.  If  it  he  sinful,  it  cannot  for  an  instant 
lose  the  distressing  consciousness  of  sin.  In  neither 
instance  will  it  be  necessary,  as  it  generally  is  in 
this  life,  to  make  a  special  effort  and  a  particular 
examination,  in  order  to  know  the  personal  char- 
acter. Knowledge  of  God  and  His  law,  in  the 
future  life,  is  spontaneous  and  inevitable  ;  no  crea- 
ture can  escape  it ;  and  therefore  the  bliss  is  un- 
ceasing in  heaven,  and  the  misery  is  iinceasing  in 
hell.  There  are  no  states  of  thous-htlessness  and 
unconcern  in  the  future  life,  because  there  is  not 
an  instant  of  forgetfulness  or  ignorance  of  the  per- 
sonal character  and  condition.  In  the  world 
beyond  this,  every  man  will  constantly  and  dis- 
tinctly know  what  he  is,  and  what  he  is  not, 
because  he  will  "  be  known "  by  the  omniscient 
and  unerring  God,  and  will  himself  know  in  the 
same  constant  and  distinct  style  and  manner. 

If  the  most  thoughtless  person  that  now  walks 
the  globe  could  only  have  a  clear  perception  of  that 
kind  of  knowledge  which  is  awaiting  him  upon  the 
otlier  side  of  the  tomb,  he  would  become  the  most 
thoughtful  and  the  most  anxious  of  men.  It 
would  sober  him  like  death  itself.  And  if  any 
unpardoned  man  should  from  this  moment  on^v;^•d 
be  haunted  with  the  thought,  "  When  I  die  I  shull 
enter  into  the  light  of  God's  countenance,  and 
obtain  a  knowledge  of  my  own  character  and  obli- 
gations that  will  be  as  accurate  and  unvarying  as 
that  of  God  himself  upon  this  sulyect,"  he  would 


10  THE   rUTUEE   STATE 

find  no  rest  until  lie  liad  obtained  an  assurance  of 
the  Divine  mercy,  and  sucli  an  inward  change  as 
would  enaljle  him  to  endure  this  deep  and  full  con- 
sciousness of  the  purity  of  God  and  of  the  state  of  his 
heart.  It  is  only  because  a  man  is  unthinking,  or 
because  he  imagines  that  the  future  world  will  be 
like  the  present  one,  only  longer  in  duration,  that 
he  is  so  indifferent  regarding  it.  Here  is  the  diffi- 
culty of  the  case,  and  the  fatal  mistake  which 
the  natural  man  makes.  He  supposes  that  the 
views  which  he  shall  have  upon  religious  sulyects 
in  the  eternal  state,  will  be  very  much  as  they  are 
in  this, — vague,  indistinct,  fluctuating,  and  therefore 
causing  no  very  great  anxiety.  He  can  pass  days 
and  weeks  here  in  time  without  thinking;  of  the 
claims  of  God  upon  him,  and  he  imagines  that  the 
same  thing  is  possible  in  eternity.  While  here 
upon  earth,  he  certainly  does  not  "  know  even  as 
also  he  is  known,"  and  he  hastily  concludes  that 
so  it  will  be  beyond  the  grave.  It  is  because  men 
imagine  that  eternity  is  only  a  very  long  space  of 
time,  filled  up,  as  time  here  is,  w^ith  dim,  indistinct 
apprehensions,  with  a  constantly  shifting  expe- 
rience, with  shallow  feeling's  and  ever  diversified 
emotions,  in  fine,  with  all  the  variety  of  pleasure 
and  pain,  of  ignorance  and  knowledge,  that  per- 
tains to  this  imperfect  and  probationary  life, — it  is 
because  mankind  thus  conceive  of  the  final  state, 
that  it  exerts  no  more  influence  over  them.  But 
such  is  not  its  true  idea.     There  is  a  marked  differ- 


A    SELFCOJSrSCIOCS    STATE.  11 

euce  between  tlie  present  and  the  future  life,  in 
respect  to  uniformity  and  clearness  of  knowledge. 
"  Now  I  know  in  part,  but  tken  shall  I  know  even 
as  also  I  am  known."  The  text  and  the  whole 
teaching  of  the  New  Testament  prove  that  the 
invisible  world  is  the  unchangeable  one  ;  that  there 
are  no  alterations  of  character,  and  consequently  no 
alternations  of  experience,  in  the  future  life ;  that 
there  are  no  transitions,  as  there  are  in  this  check- 
ered scene  of  earth,  from  happiness  to  unhappiness 
and  back  again.  There  is  Ijut  one  uniform  type 
of  experience  for  an  individual  soul  in  eternity. 
That  soul  is  either  uninterruptedly  happy,  or  unin- 
terruptedly miserable,  because  it  has  either  an  un- 
interrupted sense  of  lioliness,  or  an  uninterrupted 
sense  of  sin.  He  that  is  riMiteous  is  rio^hteous 
still,  and  knows  it  continually;  and  he  that  is 
filthy  is  filthy  still,  and  knows  it  incessantly.  If 
we  enter  eternity  as  the  redeemed  of  the  Lord, 
we  take  over  the  holy  heart  and  spiritual  affections 
of  reojeneration,  and  there  is  no  chansre  but  that 
of  progression, — a  change,  consequently,  only  in 
degree,  but  none  of  kind  or  type.  The  same 
knowledge  and  experience  that  we  have  here  "  in 
part"  we  shall  have  there  in  completeness  and  per- 
manency. And  the  same  will  be  true,  if  the  heart 
l)e  evil  and  the  affections  inordinate  and  earthly. 
And  all  this,  simply  because  the  mind's  knowledge 
is  clear,  accurate,  and  constant.  That  which  the 
transgressor  knows  here  of  God  and  his  own  heart, 


12  THE   FUTURE    STATE 

but  imperfectly,  and  fitfully,  and  briefly,  he  shall 
know  there  perfectly,  and  constantly,  and  ever- 
lastingly. The  law  of  constant  evolution,  and  the 
characteristic  of  unvarying  uniformity,  will  deter- 
mine and  fix  the  type  of  experience  in  the  evil  as 
it  does  in  the  good. 

Such,  then,  is  the  general  nature  of  knowledge  in 
the  future  state.  It  is  distinct,  accurate,  uninter- 
mittent,  and  unvarying.  We  shall  know  even  as 
we  are  known,  and  we  are  known  by  the  omnis- 
cient and  unerrino;  Searcher  of  hearts.  Let  us 
now  apply  this  general  characteristic  of  cognition 
in  eternity  to  some  particulars.  Let  us  transfer 
our  minds  into  the  futiu^e  and  final  state,  and  mark 
what  goes  on  within  them  there.  We  ought  often 
to  enter  this  mysterious  realm,  and  become  habit- 
uated to  its  mental  processes,  and  by  a  wise  antici- 
pation become  prepared  for  the  reality  itself 

I.  The  human  mind,  in  eternity,  will  have  a 
distinct  and  unvarying  perception  of  the  character 
of  God.  And  that  one  particular  attribute  in  this 
character,  respecting  which  the  cognition  will  be  of 
the  most  luminous  quality,  is  the  Divine  holiness. 
In  eternity,  the  immaculateness  of  the  Deity  will 
penetrate  the  consciousness  of  every  rational  crea- 
ture with  the  subtlety  and  the  thoroughness  of  fire. 
God's  essence  is  infinitely  pure,  and  intensely  antag- 
onistic to  sin,  but  it  is  not  until  there  is  a  direct 
contact  between  it  and  the  human  mind,  that  man 
understands  it  and  feels  it.     "  I  have  heard  of  Thee 


A    SELF-CONSCIOUS    STATE.  13 

})y  tlie  hearing  of  the  ear,  but  now  mine  eye  seeth 
Thee,  and  I  abhor  myself."  Even  the  best  of  men 
know  but  "in  part "  concerning  the  holiness  of  God. 
Yet  it  is  noticeable  how  the  aj)prehension  of  it 
grows  upon  the  ripening  Christian,  as  he  draws 
nearer  to  the  time  of  his  depapture.  The  vision  of 
the  cherubim  themselves  seems  to  dawn  upon  the 
soul  of  a  Leighton  and  an  Edwards,  and  though  it 
4oes  not  in  the  least  disturb  their  saintly  and  se- 
raphic peace,  because  they  are  sheltered  in  the  clefts 
of  the  Rock  of  Ages,  as  the  brightness  passes  by 
them,  it  does  yet  bring  out  from  their  compara- 
tively holy  and  spiritual  hearts  the  utterance, 
"  Behold  I  am  vile ;  infinite  upon  infinite  is  my 
sin."  But  what  shall  be  said  of  the  common 
and  ordinary  knowledge  of  mankind,  upon  this 
subject !  Except  at  certain  infrequent  times,  the 
natural  man  does  not  know  even  "  in  part,"  respect- 
ino;  the  holiness  of  God,  and  hence  2:oes  on  in  trans- 
gression  without  anxiety  or  terror.  It  is  the  very 
first  work  of  prevenient  grace,  to  disclose  to  the 
human  mind  something  of  the  Divine  purity ;  and 
\vhoever,  at  any  moment,  is  startled  by  a  more 
than  common  sense  of  God's  holy  character,  should 
regard  it  and  cherish  it  as  a  token  of  benevolence 
and  care  for  liis  soul. 

Now,  in  eternity  this  species  of  knowledge  must 
exist  in  the  very  hio;:hest  deg-ree.  The  human  soul 
will  be  encircled  by  the  character  and  attributes  of 
God.     It   cannot  look   in  any   direction   without 

2 


14  THE   FUTURE   STATE 

l^eliolcling  it.  It  is  not  so  here.  Here,  in  tliis  life, 
man  may  and  does  avert  his  eye,  and  refuse  to  look 
at  the  sheen  and  the  splendor  that  pains  his  organ. 
He  fastens  his  glance  upon  the  farm,  or  the  mer- 
chandise, or  the  book,  and  j)ersevenngly  deter- 
mines not  to  see  the  purity  of  God  that  rebukes 
him.  And  liere  he  can  succeed.  He  can  and  does 
live  days  and  months  without  so  much  as  a  moment- 
ary glimpse  of  his  Maker,  and,  as  the  apostle  says 
is  "  without  God "  in  this  world.  And  yet  such 
men  do  have,  now  and  then,  a  view  of  the  face  of 
God.  It  may  be  for  an  instant*  only.  It  may  be 
mendy  a  thought,  a  gleam,  a  flash ;  and  yet,  like  that 
quick  flash  of  lightning,  of  which  our  Lord  sj^eaks, 
that  lighteneth  out  of  the  one  part  of  heaven,  and 
shineth  unto  the  other  part,  that  cometh  out  of  the 
East  and  shineth  even  unto  the  West, — like  that 
swift  momentary  flash  which  runs  round  the  whole 
horizon  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  this  swift 
thought  and  gleam  of  God's  purity  fills  the  whole 
guilty  soul  full  of  light.  What  spiritual  distress 
seizes  the  man  in  such  moments,  and  of  what  a 
^penetrating  perception  of  the  Divine  character  is 
he  possessed  for  an  instant !  It  is  a  distinct  and 
an  accurate  knowledge,  but,  unlike  the  cognition  of 
the  future  state,  it  is  not  yet  an  inevitable  and 
unintermittent  one.  He  can  expel  it,  and  become 
ao;ain  an  imorant  and  indifferent  beino-  as  he  was 
before.  He  knows  but  "  in  part "  at  the  very  best, 
and  this  only  temporarily. 


A    SKLF-COXSCIOUS    STATE.  15 

But  carry  tliis  rational  and  accountable  creature 
into  eternity,  denude  him  of  tlie  ])ody  of  sense,  and 
take  liim  out  of  tlie  busy  and  noisy  world  of  sense 
into  the  silent  "world  of  spirits,  and  into  the  imme- 
diate presence  of  God,  and  then  he  will  know  upon 
til  is  subject  even  as  he  is  known.  That  sight  and 
2:>erception  of  God's  purity  which  he  had  here  for  a 
Ijrief  instant,  and  which  was  so  painful  because  he 
was  not  in  sympathy  with  it,  has  no\v  l)ecome  ever- 
lastinof.  That  distinct  and  accurate  knowledo-e  of 
God's  character  has  now  become  his  only  knowl- 
ediT-e.  That  flash  of  lio;htnin2:  has  become  lii>ht, — 
fixed,  steady,  permanent  as  the  orb  of  day.  Tlie 
rational  S23irit  cannot  for  an  instant  rid  itself  of  the 
idea  of  God.  Never  for  a  moment,  in  the  endless 
cycles,  can  it  look  away  from  its  Maker ;  for  in 
His  presence  what  other  object  is  there  to  look  at? 
Time  itself,  with  its  pursuits  and  its  objects  of 
thought  and  feeling,  is  no  longer,  for  the  angel  hath 
swoni  it  by  Him  who  liveth  for  ever  and  ever. 
There  is  nothing  left,  then,  to  occupy  and  engross 
the  attention  but  the  character  and  attributes  of 
God ;  and,  now,  the  immortal  mind,  created  for 
such  a  purpose,  must  yield  itself  up  to  that  contem- 
plation which  in  this  life  it  dreaded  and  avoided. 
The  future  state  of  every  man  is  to  be  an  open  and 
unavoidable  vision  of  God.  If  he  delights  in  the 
view,  he  will  be  blessed  ;  if  he  loathes  it,  he  will  be 
miserable.  This  is  the  substance  of  heaven  and 
hell.     This  is  the  key  to  the  eternal  destiny  of 


16  THE   FUTUEE    STATE 

every  liiiman  soul.  If  a  man  love  God,  lie  shall 
gaze  at  him  and  adore ;  if  he  hate  God,  he  shall 
gaze  at  him  and  gnaw  his  tongue  for  pain. 

The  subject,  as  thus  far  unfolded,  teaches  the 
followino;  lessons : 

1.  In  the  first  place,  it  shows  that  a  false  tlieory 
of  tlie  future  state  will  not  protect  a  mam  from  fu- 
ture misery.  For,  we  have  seen  that  the  eternal 
world,  by  its  veiy  structure  and  influences,  throws  a 
flood  of  light  upon  the  Divine  character,  causing  it 
to  appear  in  its  ineffable  purity  and  splendor,  and 
com])els  eveiy  creature  to  stand  out  in  that  light. 
There  is  no  darkness  in  which  man  can  hide  him- 
self, when  he  leaves  this  worhl  of  shadows.  A  false 
theory,  therefore,  respecting  God,  can  no  more  pro- 
tect a  man  from  the  reality,  the  actual  matter  of 
fact,  than  a  false  theory  of  gravitation  will  preserve 
a  man  from  falling  from  a  precipice  into  a  bottom- 
less abyss.  Do  you  come  to  us  with  the  theory 
that  every  human  creature  will  be  happy  in  another 
life,  and  that  the  doctrine  of  future  misery  is  false  ? 
We  tell  you,  in  reply,  that  God  is  lioly^  beyond 
dispute  or  controversy ;  that  He  cannot  endure  the 
sight  of  sin ;  and  that  in  the  future  world  every 
one  of  His  creatures  must  see  Him  precisely  as  He 
is,  and  know  Him  in  the  real  and  eternal  qualities  of 
His  nature.  The  man,  therefore,  who  is  full  of  sin, 
whose  heart  is  earthly,  sensual,  selfish,  must,  when 
he  approaches  that  pure  Presence,  find  that  his  the- 
ory of  future  hajipiness  shrivels  up  like  the  heavens 


A    SELF-COXSCIOUS    STATE.  l7 

themselves,  before  the  majesty  and  glory  of  God. 
He  now  stands  fiice  to  face  with  a  Being  whose 
character  has  never  dawned  upon  him  with  such  a 
dazzling  purity,  and  to  dispute  the  reality  would 
be  like  disputing  the  fierce  splendor  of  the  noonday 
sun.  Theory  must  give  way  to  fact,  and  the  de- 
luded mortal  must  submit  to  its  awful  force. 

In  this  lies  the  irresistihle  power  of  death,  judg- 
ment, and  eternity,  to  alter  the  views  of  men.  Up 
to  these  points  they  can  dispute  and  argue,  because 
there  is  no  ocular  demonstration.  It  is  possible 
to  debate  the  question  this  side  of  the  tomb,  because 
we  are  none  of  us  face  to  face  with  God,  and  front 
to  front  with  eternity.  In  the  days  of  Noah,  before 
the  flood  came,  there  was  skepticism,  and  many  the- 
ories concerniuo;  the  threatened  deluo-e.  So  lono;  as 
the  sky  was  clear,  and  the  green  earth  smiled  un- 
der the  warm  sunlight,  it  was  not  difficult  for  the 
unbeliever  to  maintain  an  argument  in  opposi- 
tion to  the  preacher  of  I'ighteousness.  But  when 
the  sky  was  rent  with  lightnings,  and  the  earth 
was  scarred  with  thunder-bolts,  and  the  fountains  of 
the  great  deep  were  broken  up,  where  was  the  skep- 
ticism ?  where  were  the  theories  ?  where  were  the  ar- 
guments ?  When  God  teaches,  "  Where  is  the  wise  ? 
where  is  the  scribe?  where  is  the  disputer  of  this 
world?"  Tliey  then  knew  as  they  were  known; 
they  stood  face  to  face  with  the  facts. 

It  is  this  iiievitahleness  of  the  demonstration  up- 
on which  we  would  fasten  attention.     We  are  not 


18  THE   FUTUEE   STATE 

always  to  live  in  tliis  world  of  sliadows.  We  ai*e 
going  individually  into  the  very  face  and  eyes  of  Je- 
hovah, and  whatever  notions  we  may  have  adopted 
and  maintained  must  all  disappear,  except  as  they 
shall  be  actually  verified  by  what  we  shall  see  and 
know  in  that  period  of  our  existence  when  we  shall 
perceive  with  the  accuracy  and  clearness  of  God 
Himself.  Our  most  darling  theories,  by  which  we 
may  have  sought  to  solace  our  souls  in  reference  to 
our  future  destiny,  if  false,  will  be  all  ruthlessly 
torn  away,  and  we  must  see  what  verily  and  eter- 
nally is.  All  mankind  come  upon  one  doctrinal 
platform  when  they  enter  eternity.  They  all 
have  one  creed  there.  There  is  not  a  skeptic  even 
in  hell.  The  devils  believe  and  tremble.  The  de- 
monstration that  God  is  holy  is  so  irrefragable,  so 
complete  and  absolute,  that  doubt  or  denial  is  im- 
possible in  any  spirit  that  has  passed  the  line  be- 
tween time  and  eternity. 

2.  In  the  second  place,  this  subject  shows  that 
indifference  and  carelessness  respecting  tlie  future  life 
will  not  jjrotect  the  soul  from  future  onisery.  There 
may  be  no  false  theor}''  adopted,  and  yet  if  there  be 
no  thoughtful  j)reparation  to  meet  God,  the  result 
will  be  all  the  same.  I  may  not  dispute  the  New- 
tonian theory  of  gravitation,  yet  if  I  pay  no  heed  to 
it,  if  I  simply  forget  it,  as  I  clamber  up  moun- 
tains, and  walk  by  the  side  of  precipices,  my 
body  will  as  surely  be  dashed  to  pieces  as  if  I  were  a 
theoretical  skeptic  upon  the  subject  of  gravitation. 


A   SELF-CONSCIOUS   STATE.  19 

The  creature's  indifference  can  no  more  alter  the 
immutable  nature  of  Gotl,  than  can  the  creature's 
false  i-easoning,  or  false  theorizing.  That  which  is 
settled  in  heaven,  that  which  is  fixed  and  eternal, 
stands  the  same  stern,  relentless  fact  under  all 
circumstances.  We  see  the  operation  of  this 
sometimes  here  upon  earth,  in  a  very  impres- 
sive manner.  A  youth  or  a  man  simply  neg- 
lects the  laws  and  conditions  of  physical  well-be- 
ing. He  does  not  dispute  them.  He  merely  pays 
no  attention  to  them.  A  few  years  pass  by,  and 
disease  and  torturing  pain  become  his  portion.  He 
comes  now  into  the  a^vful  presence  of  the  powers 
and  the  facts  which  the  Creator  has  inlaid  in  the 
world  of  physical  existence.  He  knows  now  even 
as  he  is  known.  And  the  laws  are  stern.  He  finds 
no  place  of  re])entance  in  them,  though  he.  seek  it 
carefully  with  tears.  The  laws  never  repent,  never 
change  their  mind.  The  principles  of  physical  life 
and  growtli  which  he  lias  never  disputed,  but  which 
he  has  never  regarded,  now  crush  him  into  the 
ground  in  their  relentless  march  and  motion. 

Precisely  so  will  it  be  in  the  moral  world,  and 
with  reference  to  the  holiness  of  God.  That  man  who 
simply  neglects  to  prepare  himself  to  see  a  holy 
God,  thougli  he  never  denies  that  there  is  such  a 
Being,  will  find  the  vision  just  as  unendurable 
to  him,  as  it  is  to  the  most  determined  of  earthly 
skeptics.  So  far  as  the  final  I'esult  in  the  other  woiid 
is  concerned,  it  matters  little  whether  a  man  adds 


20  THE   FUTURE    STATE 

unbelief  to  his  carelessness,  or  not  The  carelessness 
will  ruin  his  soul,  whether  with  or  without  skepti- 
cism. Orthodoxy  is  valuable  only  as  it  inspires  the 
hope  that  it  will  end  in  timely  and  practical  atten- 
tion to  the  concerns  of  the  soul.  But  if  you  show 
me  a  man  who  you  infallibly  know  will  go  through 
life  careless  and  indifferent,  I  will  show  you  a  man 
who  will  not  be  prepared  to  meet  God  face  to  face, 
even  though  his  theology  be  as  accurate  as  that  of 
St.  Paul  himself.  Nay,  we  have  seen  that  there  is  a 
time  coming  when  all  skeptics  will  become  believers 
like  the  devils  themselves,  and  will  tremble  at  the 
ocular  demonstration  of  truths  which  they  have 
heretofore  denied.  Theoretical  unbelief  must  be  a 
temporary  affair  in  every  man  ;  for  it  can  last  only 
until  he  dies.  Death  will  make  all  the  world  the- 
oretically orthodox,  and  bring  them  all  to  one  and 
the  same  creed.  But  death  will  not  bring  them  all 
to  one  and  the  same  happy  experience  of  the  truth, 
and  love  of  the  creed.  For  those  who  have  made 
preparation  for  the  vision  of  God  and  the  ocular 
demonstration  of  Divine  truth,  these  will  rise  upon 
their  view  with  a  blessed  and  glorious  light.  But 
for  those  who  have  remained  sinful  and  careless, 
these  eternal  truths  and  facts  will  be  a  vision  of 
terror  and  despair.  They  will  not  alter.  No  man 
will  "find  any  place  of  repentance  in  them,  though, 
like  Esau,  he  seek  it  carefully  and  with  tears. 

3.  In  the  third  place,  this  subject  shows  that  only 
faith  in  Christ  and  a  new  heart  can  protect  the  soul 


A   SELF-CONSCIOUS   STATE.  21 

from  future  misery.  The  nature  aud  character  of 
God  canuot  be  altered,  and  therefore  the  change 
must  be  wrought  in  man's  soul.  The  disposition 
and  affections  of  the  heart  must  be  brought  into 
sucli  sweet  sympathy  and  harmony  with  God's  holi- 
ness, that  when  in  the  next  world  that  holiness 
shall  be  revealed  as  it  is  to  the  seraphim,  it  w^ill  fall 
in  upon  the  soul  like  the  rays  of  a  vernal  sun,  start- 
ing every  thing  into  cheerful  life  and  joy.  If  the 
Divine  holiness  does  not  make  this  impression,  it 
produces  exactly  the  contrary  effect.  If  the  sun's 
rays  do  not  start  the  bud  in  the  spring,  they  kill  it. 
If  the  vision  of  a  holy  God  is  not  our  heaven,  then 
it  must  be  our  hell.  Look  then  directly  into  your 
heart,  and  tell  us  which  is  the  impression  for  you. 
Can  you  say  with  David,  "  We  give  thanks  and  re- 
joice, at  the  remembrance  of  Thy  holiness?"  Are 
you  glad  that  there  is  such  a  pure  and  immaculate 
Being  upon  the  throne,  and  when  His  excellence 
abashes  you,  and  rebukes  your  corruption  and  sin, 
do  you  say,  *'  Let  the  righteous  One  smite  me,  it 
shall  be  a  kindness  ?"  Do  you  love  God's  holy  char- 
acter ?  If  so,  you  are  a  new  creature,  and  are  ready 
for  the  vision  of  God,  face  to  face.  For  you,  to 
know  God  even  as  you  are  known  by  Him  will  not 
be  a  terror,  but  a  glory  and  a  joy.  You  are  in  sym- 
pathy with  Ilim.  You  have  been  reconciled  to  Him 
by  the  blood  of  atonement,  and  brought  into  harmo- 
ny with  Him  by  the  washing  of  regeneration.  For 
you,  as   a  believer  in  Christ,  and   a  new  man   in 

2* 


22  THE   FUTUTEE   STATE. 

Clinst  flesus,  all  is  well.  The  more  you  see  of  God, 
the  more  you  desire  to  see  of  Him  ;  and  the  more 
you  know  of  Him,  the  more  you  long  to  know. 

But  if  this  is  not  your  experience,  then  all  is  ill 
Vt^itli  you.  We  say  experience.  You  must  feel  in 
this  manner  toward  God,  or  you  cannot  endure  the 
vision  which  is  surely  to  break  upon  you  after  death. 
Y011  must  love  this  holiness  without  which  no  man 
car.  see  the  Lord.  You  may  approve  of  it,  you  may 
prj/ise  it  in  other  men,  but  if  there  is  no  affectionate 
g'j'iUg  out  of  your  own  heart  toward  the  holy  God, 
you  are  not  in  right  relations  to  Him.  You  have 
the  carnal  mind,  and  that  is  enmity,  and  enmity  is 
miser}^ 

Look  these  facts  in  the  eye,  and  act  accordingly. 
"  Make  the  tree  good,  and  his  fruit  good,"  says 
Christ.  Beo^in  at  the  beixinnino;.  Aim  at  notliinsf 
less  than  a  change  of  disposition  and  affections. 
Ask  for  nothing  less,  seek  for  nothing  less.  If  you 
become  inwardly  holy  as  God  is  holy;  if  you  be- 
come a  friend  of  God,  reconciled  to  Him  by  the 
blood  of  Christ ;  then  your  nature  will  be  like  God's 
nature,  your  character  like  God's  character.  Then, 
when  you  shall  know  God  even  as  you  are  known 
by  Him,  and  shall  see  Him  as  He  is,  the  knowledge 
and  the  vision  will  be  everlasting  joy. 


THE  PUTURE  STATE  A  SELF-CONSCIOUS  STATE. 


1  Cor.  xiii.  12. — "  Now  I  know  in  part;  but  then  sliall  I  know  evet  as 
also  I  am  known." 


Lsr  the  preceding  discourse,  we  found  in  these 
words  the  principal  characteristic  of  our  future  ex- 
istence. The  world  beyond  the  tomb  is  a  world  of 
clear  and  conscious  knowledge.  When,  at  death,  I 
shall  leave  this  re2:ion  of  time  and  sense  and  enter 
eternity,  my  knowledge,  the  apostle  Paul  tells  me, 
instead  of  being  diminished  or  extinguished  by  the 
dissolution  of  the  body,  will  not  only  be  continued 
to  me,  but  will  be  even  greater  and  clearer  than 
before.  He  assures  me  that  the  kind  and  style  of 
my  cognition  will  be  like  that  of  God  himself.  I 
am  to  know  as  I  am  known.  My  intelligence  will 
coincide  with  that  of  Deity. 

By  this  we  are  not  to  understand  that  the  crear 
ture's  knowledge,  in  the  future  state,  will  be  as  ex- 
tensive as  that  of  the  Omniscient  One ;  or  that  it 
will  be  as  profound  and  exhaustive  as  His.  The  in- 
finitude of  things  can  be  known  only  by  the  Infinite 


24  THE   FUTURE    STATE 

Mind  ;  and  the  creature  will  forever  be  making  new 
acquisitions,  and  never  reaching  the  final  limit  of 
truths  and  facts.  But  upon  certain  moral  subjects, 
the  perception  of  the  creature  will  be  like  that  ot* 
his  Maker  and  Judge,  so  far  as  the  Idnd  or  ([ual- 
ity  of  the  apprehension  is  concerned.  Every  man 
in  eternity,  for  illustration,  will  see  sin  to  l;e  an 
odious  and  abominable  thing,  conti'ary  to  the  holy 
nature  of  God,  and  awakening;  in  that  nature  the 
most  holy  and  awful  displeasure.  His  knowledge 
upon  this  subject  will  be  so  identical  with  that  of 
God,  that  he  will  be  unable  to  palliate  or  excuse 
his  transgressions,  as  he  does  in  this  world.  He 
will  see  them  precisely  as  God  sees  them.  He  must 
know  them  as  God  knows  them,  because  he  will 
"  know  even  as  he  is  known." 

H.  In  continuing  the  examination  of  this  solemn 
sul)ject,  we  remark  as  a  second  and  further  charac- 
teristic of  the  knowledge  which  every  man  will 
possess  in  eternity,  that  he  will  kuow^  liimself  even 
as  he  is  known  by  God.  His  knowledge  of  God 
we  have  found  to  be  direct,  accurate,  and  unceas- 
ing; his  knowledge  of  his  own  heart  will  be  so  like- 
wise. This  follows  from  the  relation  of  the  two 
species  of  cognition  to  each  other.  The  true  knowl- 
edge of  God  involves  the  true  knowledge  of  self. 
The  instant  that  any  one  obtains  a  clear  view  of  the 
holy  nature  of  his  Maker,  he  ol)tains  a  clear  view 
of  his  own  sinful  nature.  Philosophers  tell  us,  that 
our  consciousness  of  God  and  our  consciousness  of 


A    SELF-CONSCIOUS    STATE.  JO 

self  mntnally  involve  and  imply  each  ot]ier;Mn 
other  words,  that  we  cannot  know  God  without 
immediately  knowing  ourselves,  any  moi-e  than  \ve 
can  know  light  without  knowing  darkness,  any 
more  than  we  can  have  the  idea  of  ri^^ht  without 
having  the  idea  of  wrong.  And  it  is  certainly  true 
that  so  soon  as  any  being  can  intelligently  say, 
"  God  is  holy,"  he  can  and  must  say,  ''  I  am  holy," 
or, "  I  am  unholy,"  as  the  fact  may  be.  Indeed,  the 
only  way  in  which  man  can  truly  know  himself  is 
to  conti'ast  himself  with  his  Maker;  and  the  most 
exhaustive  self-knowledo;e  and  self-consciousness  is 
to  be  found,  not  in  the  schools  of  secular  philoso- 
phy but,  in  the  searchings  of  the  Christian  heart, 
— in  the  "  Confessions  "  of  Augustine ;  in  the  laby- 
rinthine windino^s  of  Edwards  "  On  the  Affections." 
Hence  the  fi'equent  exhortations  in  the  Bible  to 
look  at  the  character  of  God,  in  order  that  we  may 
know  ourselves  and  be  abased  by  the  contrast.  In 
eternity,  therefore,  if  we  must  have  a  clear  and  con- 
stant perception  of  God's  character,  we  must  neces- 
sai'ily  have  a  distinct  and  unvarying  knowledge  of 
our  own.  It  is  not  so  here.  Here  in  this  world, 
man  knows  himself  but  "  in  part."  Even  when  he 
endeavors  to  look  within,  prejudice  and  passion 
often  affect  his  judgment;  but  more  often,  the  fear 
of  Avhat  he  shall  discover  in  the  secret  places  of  his 
soul  deters  him  from  making  the   attempt  at  self- 

'  Noveriiu  me,  noverim  Te. — Bernard. 


26  THE    FUTURE    STATE 

examination.  For  it  is  a  surprising  truth  that  the 
transo-ressor  dares  not  brins;  out  into  the  lio-ht  that 
which  is  most  truly  his  own,  that  which  he  himself 
has  orio;inated,  and  which  he  loves  and  cherishes 
with  all  his  strength  and  might.  He  is  afraid  of 
his  own  heart !  Even  when  God  forces  the  vision 
of  it  upon  him,  he  would  shut  his  eyes ;  or  if  this 
be  not  possible,  he  would  look  through  distorting 
media  and  see  it  with  a  false  form  and  coloiinof. 

o 

"  But  'tis  not  so  above  ; 
There  is  no  shuffling ;  there  the  action  lies 
In  his  true  nature  :  and  we  ourselves  compelled, 
Even  to  the  teeth  and  forel^ead  of  our  faults, 
To  give  in  evidence."  * 

The  sj)irit  that  has  come  into  the  immediate  pres- 
ence of  God,  and  beholds  Him  face  to  face,  cannot 
deceive  Him,  and  therefore  cannot  deceive  itself. 
It  cannot  remain  ignorant  of  God's  character  any 
lono-er,  and  therefore  cannot  remain  is^norant  of  its 
own. 

We  do  not  sufficiently  consider  and  ponder  the 
elements  of  anguish  that  are  sleeping  in  the  fact 
that  in  eternity  a  sinner  m?^.s?5  know  God's  character, 
and  therefore  niust  know  liis  own.  It  is  owino:  to 
their  neglect  of  such  subjects,  that  mankind  so  little 
understand  what  an  awful  power  there  is  in  the 
distinct  perception  of  the  Divine  purity,  and  the  al- 
lied consciousness  of  sin.     Lord  Bacon  tells  us  that 

^SnAKSPEAEE:  Hamlet,  Act  III.,  Sc.  4. 


A   SELF-CONSCIOUS    STATE.  27 

tlie  knowledge  acquired  in  the  schools  is  po\Yer; 
but  it  is  weakness  itself,  if  compared  with  that  form 
and  species  of  cognition  which  is  given  to  the  mind 
of  man  by  the  workings  of  conscience  in  the  liglit 
of  the  Divine  countenance.  If  a  transo-ressor  knew 
clearly  what  disclosures  of  God's  immaculateness 
and  of  his  own  character  must  be  made  to  him  in 
eternity,  he  would  fear  them,  if  unprepared,  far 
more  than  physical  snfferiugs.  If  he  understood 
w^hat  capabilities  for  distress  the  rational  spirit  pos- 
sesses in  its  own  mysterious  constitution,  if  when 
brought  into  contact  with  the  Divine  purity  it  has 
no  sympathy  with  it,  but  on  the  contrary  an  intense 
hostility  ;  if  he  knew  how  violent  will  be  the  antag- 
onism between  God's  holiness  and  man's  sin  when 
the  two  are  finally  brought  together,  the  assertion 
that  there  is  no  external  source  of  anguish  in  hell, 
even  if  it  were  true,  would  afford  him  no  relief. 
Whoever  goes  into  the  presence  of  God  with  a  cor- 
I'upt  heart  carries  thither  a  source  of  sorrow  that  is 
inexhaustible,  simply  because  that  corrupt  heart 
nmst  be  distinctly  hioion^  aTidpe?'j)etualli/  understood 
by  its  possessor,  in  that  Presence.  The  thoughtless 
man  may  never  know  while  upon  earth,  even  "  in 
part,"  the  de2:>th  and  the  bitterness  of  this  fountain,— 
he  may  go  through  this  life  for  the  most  part  self- 
ignorant  and  undistressed, — but  he  must  know  in 
that  other,  final,  world  the  immense  fulness  of  its 
woe,  as  it  unceasingly  wells  up  into  everlasting 
death.     One  theory  of  future  punishment  is,  that 


28  THE    rUTUEE    STATE 

our  globe  will  become  a  penal  orb  of  fire,  and  the 
wiclved  with  material  bodies,  miraculously  preserved 
by  Omnipotence,  will  burn  forever  in  it.  But  what 
is  this  compared  with  the  suffering  soul?  The 
spirit  itself,  thus  alienated  from  God's  purity  and 
conscious  that  it  is,  wicked  and  hnoiving  that  it  is 
wicked,  becomes  an  "  orb  of  fire,"  "  It  is," — says 
John  Howe,  who  was  no  fanatic,  but  one  of  the 
most  thoughtful  and  philosophic  of  Christians, — "  it 
is  a  throwing  hell  into  hell,  when  a  wicked  man 
comes  to  hell;  for  he  was  his  own  hell  before."  ^ 

It  must  ever  be  borne  in  mind,  that  the  principal 
source  and  seat  of  future  torment  will  be  the  sin- 
ner's sin.  We  must  never  harbor  the  thought,  or 
Ml  into  the  notion,  that  the  retributions  of  eter- 
nity are  a  wanton  and  arbitrary  infliction  upon  the 
part  of  God.  Some  men  seem  to  suppose,  or  at  any 
rate  they  represent,  that  the  woes  of  hell  are  a  spe- 
cies of  undeserved  suffering;  that  God,  having  cer- 
tain helpless  and  innocent  creatures  in  His  power, 
visits  them  with  wrath,  in  the  exercise  of  an  ar- 
bitrary sovereignty.  But  this  is  not  Christ's  doc- 
trine of  endless  punishment.  There  is  no  suffei'ing 
inflicted,  here  or  hereafter,  upon  any  thing  but  sin^ 
— unrepented,  incorrigible  sin, — -and  if  you  will  show 
me  a  sinless  creature,  I  will  show  you  one  who  will 
never  feel  the  least  twinge  or  pang  through  all  eter- 
nity.    Death  is  the  wages  of  sin.     The  substance 

*  Howe  :  On  Regeneration.   Sermon  xliii. 


A    SELF-CONSCIOUS    STATE.  29 

of  the  wretchedness  of  the  lost  will  issue  right  out 
of  their  own  character.  They  will  see  their  own 
wickedness  steadily  and  clearly,  and  this  will  make 
them  miserable.  It  will  be  the  carrying  out  of  the 
same  principle  that  operates  here  in  time,  and  in 
our  own  daily  experience.  Suppose  that  by  some 
method,  all  the  sin  of  my  heart,  and  all  the  sins  of 
my  outward  conduct,  were  made  clear  to  my  own 
view ;  suppose  that  for  four-and-twenty  hours  con- 
tinuously I  were  compelled  to  look  at  my  wicked- 
ness intently,  just  as  I  would  look  intently  into  a 
burning  furnace  of  fire  ;  suppose  that  for  this  length 
of  time  I  should  see  nothing,  and  hear  nothing,  and 
experience  nothing  of  the  world  abmit  me,  but 
should  be  absorbed  in  the  vision  of  nay  own  disobe- 
dience of  God's  good  law,  think  you  that  (setting 
aside  the  work  of  Christ)  I  sliould  be  happy?  ,  On 
the  contrary,  should  I  not  be  the  most  wretched 
of  mortals?  Would  not  this  self-knowledge  be 
pure  living  torment  ?  And  yet  the  misery  springs 
entirely  out  of  the  sl)i.  There  is  nothing  arbitrary 
or  wanton  in  the  sufferino;.  It  is  not  brought  in 
upon  me  from  the  outside.  It  comes  out  of  myself. 
And,  while  I  was  writhing  under  the  sense  and 
])o\ver  of  my  transgressions,  would  you  mock  me, 
by  telling  me  that  I  was  a  poor  innocent  struggling 
in  the  hands  of  omnipotent  malice;  that  the  sutferr 
ing  was  unjust,  and  that  if  there  were  any  justice 
in  the  universe,  I  should  be  delivered  from  it  ?  No, 
we  shall  suffer  in  the  future  world  only  as  we  are 


30  THE   FUTUKE   STATE 

sinners,  and  because  we  are  sinners.  There  will  be 
weeping  and  wailing  and  gnashing  of  teeth,  only 
because  the  sinful  creature  will  be  compelled  to 
look  at  himself;  to  know  his  sin  in  the  same  man- 
ner that  it  is  known  hy  the  Infinite  Intelligence. 
And  is  there  any  injustice  in  this  ?  If  a  sinful  being 
cannot  bear  the  sight  of  himself,  would  you  have 
the  holy  Deity  step  in  between  him  and  his  sins,  so 
that  he  should  not  see  them,  and  so  that  he  mio-ht 
be  hap[)y  in  them  ?  Away  with  such  folly  and 
such  wickedness.  For  it  is  the  height  of  wicked- 
ness to  desire  that  some  method  should  be  invent- 
ed, and  introduced  into  the  universe  of  God,  where- 
])y  the  wages  of  sin  shall  be  life  and  joy  ;  whereby  a 
sinner  can  look  into  his  own  wicked  heart  and  be 
happy. 

III.  A  third  characteristic  of  the  knowledge 
which  every  man  will  possess  in  eternity  will  be  a 
clear  understanding  of  the  nature  and  wants  of  the 
sold.  Man  has  that  in  his  constitution  which  needs 
God,  and  which  cannot  be  at  rest  except  in  God. 
A  state  of  sin  is  a  state  of  alienation  and  separation 
from  the  Creator.  It  is,  consequently,  in  its  intrin- 
sic nature,  a  state  of  restlessness  and  dissatisfaction. 
"There  is  no  peace  saith  my  God  to  the  wicked; 
the  wicked  are  like  the  troubled  sea."  In  order 
to  kno\v  this,  it  is  only  necessary  to  bring  an  apos- 
tate creature,  like  man,  to  a  consciousness  of  the 
original  requirements  and  necessities  of  his  being. 
But  upon  this  subject,  man  while  upon  earth  most 


A    SELF-CONSCIOUS    STATE.  31 

cei-tainly  knows  only  "  in  part."  Most  men  are 
wholly  ignorant  of  the  constitutional  needs  of  a  ra- 
tional s})irit,  and  are  not  aware  that  it  is  as  impos- 
sihle  for  the  creature,  when  in  eternity,  to  live  hap- 
pily out  of  God,  as  it  is  for  the  body  to  live  at  all 
in  the  element  of  fire.  Most  men,  while  here  upon 
earth,  do  not  know  upon  this  subject  as  they  are 
known.  God  knows  that  the  whole  created  uni- 
verse cannot  satisfy  the  desires  of  an  immortal 
being,  but  impenitent  men  do  not  know  this  fact 
with  a  clear  perception,  and  they  will  not  until  they 
die  and  go  into  another  world. 

And  the  reason  is  this.  So  long  as  the  worldly 
natural  man  lives  upon  earth,  he  can  find  a  sort  of 
substitute  for  God.  lie  has  a  capacity  for  loving, 
and  he  satisfies  it  to  a  certain  decrreeby  loviuir  him- 
self;  by  loving  fame,  wealth,  pleasure,  or  some  form 
of  creature-good.  He  has  a  capacity  for  thinking, 
and  he  gratifies  it  in  a  certain  manner  by  ponder- 
ing the  thoughts  of  other  minds,  or  by  original 
speculations  of  his  own.  And  so  we  might  go 
through  with  the  list  of  man's  capacities,  and  we 
should  find,  that  he  contrives,  while  here  upon  earth, 
to  meet  these  a])]^etences  of  his  nature,  after  a  sort, 
l)y  the  objects  of  time  and  sense,  and  to  give  his 
soul  a  species  of  satisfaction  short  of  God,  and  away 
from  God.  Fame,  wealth,  and  pleasure;  the  lust 
of  the  flesh,  the  lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  life ; 
bt'come  a  substitute  for  the  Creator,  in  his  search 
for  happiness.     As  a  consequence,  the  unregenerate 


32 


THE   FUTUEE    STATE 


man  knows  but  "  in  part"  respecting  the  primitive 
and  constitutional  necessities  of  his  being.  He  is 
feeding  them  with  a  false  and  unhealthy  food,  and  in 
this  way  manages  to  stifle  for  a  season  their  true  and 
deep  cravings.  But  this  cannot  last  forever.  When 
a  man  dies  and  goes  into  eternity,  he  takes  nothing 
with  him  but  his  character  and  his  moral  affinities. 
"  We  brought  nothing  into  this  world,  and  it  is  cer- 
tain that  we  can  carry  nothing  out."  The  original 
requirements  and  necessities  of  his  soul  are  not  de- 
stroyed by  death,  but  the  eartlily  objects  by  which 
he  sought  to  meet  them,  and  by  which  he  did  meet 
them  after  a  sort,  are  totally  destroyed.  He  still 
has  a  capacity  for  loving;  but  in  eternity  where  is 
the  fame,  the  wealth,  the  pleasure  upon  which  he 
has  hitherto  expended  it?  He  still  has  a  capacity 
for  thinking;  but  where  are  the  ftirm,  the  merchan- 
dise, the  libraries,  the  works  of  art,  the  human  lit 
eratures,  and  the  human  philosophies,  upon  which 
he  has  heretofore  employed  it  ?  The  instant  you 
cut  off  a  creature  who  seeks  his  good  in  the  woi'ld, 
and  not  in  God,  from  intercourse  with  the  world, 
you  cause  him  to  know  even  as  he  is  known  re- 
s[)ecting  the  true  and  proper  portion  of  his  soul. 
Deprived  of  his  accustomed  and  his  false  object  of 
love  and  support,  he  immediately  begins  to  reach 
out  in  all  directions  for  something  to  love,  some- 
thing to  think  of,  something  to  ti-ust  in,  and  finds 
nothing.  Like  that  insect  in  our  gardens  which 
spins  a  slender  thread  by  which  to  guide  itself  in 


A    SELF-CONSCIOUS    STATE.  33 

its  meandering^,  and  wliicb  wlien  the  clew  is  cut 
thrusts  out  its  head  in  every  direction,  but  does  not 
venture  to  advance,  the  human  creature  who  has 
suddenly  been  cut  off  by  death  from  his  accustomed 
objects  of  support  and  pleasure  stretches  out  in 
every  direction  for  something  to  take  their  place. 
And  the  misery  of  his  case  is,  that  when  in  his 
reachino-s  out  he  sees  God,  or  comes  into  contact 
with  God,  he  starts  back  like  the  little  insect  when 
you  present  a  coal  of  tire  to  it.  He  needs  as  much 
as  ever,  to  love  some  being  or  some  thing.  But 
he  has  no  heart  to  love  God,  and  there  is  no  other 
being  and  no  other  thing  in  eternity  to  love.  He 
needs,  as  much  as  ever,  to  think  of  some  object  or 
some  subject.  But  to  think  of  God  is  a  distress  to 
him ;  to  reflect  upon  divine  and  holy  things  is 
weariness  and  woe.  He  is  a  carnal,  earthly-minded 
man,  and  therefore  cannot  find  enjoyment  in  such 
meditations.  Before  he  can  take  relish  in  such  ob- 
jects and  such  thinking,  he  must  be  born  again; 
he  must  become  a  new  creature.  But  there  is  no 
new-birth  of  the  soul  in  ( ternity.  The  disposition 
and  character  which  a  man  takes  alonir  with  him 
when  he  dies  remains  eternally  unchanged.  The 
constitutional  wants  still  continue.  The  man  niu>t 
love,  and  must  think.  But  the  only  ol)ject  in  eter- 
nity upon  which  such  capability  can  be  expendi^d 
is  God  ;  and  the  carnal  mind,  saith  the  Scripture, 
is  enmitf/  against  God,  and  is  not  subject  to  the  law 
of  God,  neither  indeed  can  be. 


34  THE   rUTUKE    STATE 

Now,  whatever  mny  be  the  course  of  a  man  in 
this  lite  ;  whether  he  becomes  aware  of  these  creat- 
ed imperatives,  and  constitutional  necessities  of  his 
immortal  spirit  or  not ;  whether  he  hears,  its  re 
proaches  and  rebukes  because  he  is  feeding  them 
with  the  husks  of  earth,  instead  of  the  bread  of 
heaven,  or  not ;  it  is  certain  tliat  in  the  eternal 
world  they  will  be  continually  awake  and  perpetu- 
ally heard.  For  that  spiritual  world  will  be  fitted 
up  for  nothing  but  a  rational  sj)irit.  There  will  be 
nothing  material,  nothing  like  earth,  in  its  arrange- 
ments. Flesh  and  blood  cannot  'inherit  either  the 
kinsfdom  of  God  or  the  kino-dom  of  Satan.  The 
enjoyments  and  occupations  of  this  sensuous  and 
material  state  Avill  be  found  neither  in  heaven  nor 
in  hell.  Eternity  is  a  spiritual  region,  and  all  its 
objects,  and  all  its  provisions,  will  have  reference 
solely  to  the  original  capacities  and  destination  of 
a  spiritual  creature.  They  will,  therefore,  all  be 
terribly  reminiscent  of  apostasy ;  only  serving  to 
remind  the  soul  of  what  it  was  originally  designed 
to  be,  and  of  what  it  has  now  lost  by  worshipping 
and  loving  the  creature  more  than  the  Creator. 
How  wretched  then  must  man  be,  wdien,  with  the 
awakening  of  this  restlessness  and  dissatisfaction 
of  an  immortal  spirit,  and  with  the  bright  pattern 
of  what  he  ought  to  be  continually  before  his  eye, 
there  is  united  an  intensity  of  self-love  and  enmity 
toward  God,  that  drives  him  anywhere  and  every- 
where but  to  his  Maker,  for  peace  and  comfort.    How 


A    SELF-CONSCIOUS    STATE.  35 

full  of  woe  must  tlie  lost  creature  be,  wlieii  liis  im- 
mortal necessities  are  awakened  and  demand  their 
])roper  food,  but  cannot  obtain  it,  because  of  the 
aversion  of  the  heart  toward  the  only  Being  who  can 
satisfy  them.  For,  the  same  hatred  of  holiness,  and 
disinclination  toward  spiritual  things,  which  j)re- 
vcnts  a  man  from  choosing  God  for  his  portion  here, 
will  prevent  liim  hereaft?.r.  It  is  the  bold  fancy  of  an 
imaginative  thinker,^  that  the  material  forces  which 
lie  beneath  external  nature  are  conscious  of  beina; 
bound  down  and  confined  under  the  crust  of  the 
earth,  like  the  giant  Enceladus  under  Mt.  Etna,  and 
that  there  are  times  when  they  roar  from  the  depths 
where  they  are  in  bondage,  and  call  aloud  for  free- 
dom ;  when  they  rise  in  their  might,  and  manifest 
themselves  in  the  earthquake  and  the  volcano.  It 
^vill  be  a  more  fearful  and  terrific  struggle,  when 
the  powers  of  an  apostate  being  are  roused  in  eter- 
nity ;  when  the  then  eternal  sin  and  guilt  has  its 
hour  of  triumph,  and  the  eternal  reason  and  con- 
science have  their  hour  of  judgment  and  remorse; 
when  the  inner  world  of  man's  spirit,  by  this  schism 
and  antagonism  within  it,  has  a  devastation  and  a 
ruin  spread  over  it  more  Jiwful  than  that  of  earth- 
quakes and  volcanic  eruptions. 

We  have  thus,  in  this  and  the  preceding  dis- 
course, considered  the  kind  and  quality  of  that 
knowledge  which  every  human  being  will  possess 

'  Booksuammkr:  On  tlie  Will 


36  THE   FUTURE    STATE 

in  tlie  eternal  world.  He  will  know  God,  and  he 
will  know  liimself,  with  a  distinct,  and  accurate, 
and  miceasing  intelligence  like  that  of  the  Deity. 
It  is  one  of  the  most  solemn  and  startlins;  themes 
that  can  be  presented  to  the  human  mind.  We 
have  not  l)een  occupied  with  what  will  be  around 
a  creature,  what  will  be  outside  of  a  man,  in  the  life 
to  come ;  but  we  have  been  examining  what  will 
be  tvithin  him.  We  have  been  considering  what  he 
will  think  of  beyond  the  tomb  ;  what  his  own  feel- 
ings will  be  when  he  meets  God  face  to  face.  But 
a  man's  immediate  consciousness  determines  his 
happiness  or  his  misery.  As  a  man  thinketh  in  his 
heart  so  is  he.  We  must  not  delude  ourselves  with 
the  notion,  that  the  mere  arrangements  and  circum- 
stances of  the  spiritual  world  will  decide  our  w^eal 
or  our  woe,  irrespective  of  the  tenor  of  our  thoughts 
and  affections  ;  that  if  we  are  only  placed  in  pleas- 
ant gardens  or  in  golden  streets,  all  will  be  well. 
As  a  man  thinketh  in  his  heart,  so  wall  he  be  in 
his  experience.  This  vision  of  God,  and  of  our  own 
hearts,  will  be  either  the  substance  of  heaven,  or 
the  substance  of  hell.  The  great  future  is  a  world 
of  open  vision.  Now,  we  see  through  a  glass 
darkly,  but  then,  face  to  face.  The  vision  for  every 
human  creature  will  be  beatific,  if  he  is  prejoared 
for  it ;  will  be  terrific,  if  he  is  unprepared. 

Does  not  the  subject,  then,  speak  with  solemn 
warnmg  to  every  one  who  knows  that  he  is  not  pre- 
pared for  the  coming  revelations  that  will  be  -made 


A   SELF-CONSCIOUS   STATE.  37 

to  liim  wlien  lie  dies ; ,  for  tliis  clear  and  accurate 
knowledge  of  God,  and  of  his  own  character?  Do 
you  believe  that  there  is  an  eternal  world,  and  that 
the  general  features  of  this  mode  of  existence  have 
been  scripturally  depicted?  Do  you  suppose  that 
}'Our  present  knowledge  of  the  holiness  of  God, 
and  of  your  own  sinful  nature,  is  equal  to  what 
it  will  be  when  your  sj^irit  returns  to  God  who 
gave  it  ?  Are  you  prepared  for  the  impending 
and  inevitable  disclosures  and  revelations  of  the 
day  of  judgment?  Do  you  believe  that  Jesus 
Christ  is  tlie  Eternal  Son  of  God,  who  came  forth 
fi'om  eternity  eighteen  centuries  since,  and  went 
back  into  eternity,  leaving  upon  record  for  human 
instruction  an  unexaggerated  description  of  that 
invisible  world,  founded  upon  the  personal  knowl- 
edge of  an  eye-witness  ? 

Whoever  thus  believes,  concerning  the  record 
which  Christ  and  His  apostles  have  left  for  the 
information  of  dim-eyed  mortals  who  see  only 
*'  through  a  glass  darkly,"  and  who  know  only  "  in 
part,"  ought  immediately  to  adopt  their  descriptions 
and  ponder  them  long  and  well.  We  have  already 
observed,  that  the  great  reason  wliy  the  future 
state  exerts  so  little  influence  over  worldly  men 
lies  in  the  fact,  that  they  do  not  bring  it  into 
distinct  view.  They  liv^e  absorbed  in  the  interests 
and  occupations  of  earth,  and  their  future  abode 
throws  in  upon  them  none  of  its  solemn  shadows 
and  warnings.     A  clear  luminous  perception  of  the 


3S  THE   FUTURE    STATE 

nature  and  characteristics  of  that  invisible  world 
wLich  is  soon  to  receive  them,  would  make  them 
thoughtful  and  anxious  for  their  souls;  for  they 
would  become  aware  of  their  utter  unfitness, 
their  entire  lack  of  preparation,  to  see  God  face  to 
face.  Still,  live  aud  act  as  sinful  men  may,  eternity 
is  over  and  around  them  all,  even  as  the  firmament 
is  bent  over  the  globe.  If  theirs  were  a  penitent 
and  a  believing  eye,  they  v/ould  look  up  with  adora- 
tion into  its  serene  depths,  and  joyfully  behold  the 
soft  gleam  of  its  stars,  and  it  would  send  down 
upon  them  the  sweet  influences  of  its  constellations. 
They  may  shut  their  eyes  upon  all  this  glory,  and 
feel  only  earthly  influences,  and  continue  to  be  "of 
the  earth,  earthy."  But  there  is  a  time  coming  when 
they  cannot  but  look  at  eternity ;  when  this  firma- 
ment will  throw  them  into  consternation  by  the 
livid  glai'e  of  its  lightnings,  and  will  compel  them 
to  hear  the  quick  rattle  and  peal  of  its  thunder; 
when  it  will  not  afi:brd  them  a  vision  of  glory  and 
joy,  as  it  will  the  redeemed  and  the  holy,  but  one 
of  despair  and  destruction. 

There  is  only  one  shelter  from  this  storm  ;  there 
is  only  one  covert  from  this  tempest.  He,  and 
only  he,  who  trusts  in  Christ's  blood  of  atone- 
ment, will  be  able  to  look  into  the  holy  counte- 
nance of  God,  and  upon  the  dread  record  of  his 
own  sins,  without  either  trembling  or  despair 
The  merits  and  righteousness  of  Christ  so  clothe 
the  guilty  soul,  that  it  can  endure  the  otherwise 


A   SELF-COIS'SCTOUS    STATE.  30 

intolerable  brightness  of  God's  pure  throne  and 
presence. 

"Jesus!  Tliy  blood  and  righteousness, 
My  beauty  are,  my  glorious  dress  ; 
Mid  flaming  worlds,  in  these  arrayed, 
"With  joy  shall  I  lift  up  my  head." 

Amidst  those  great  visions  that  are  to  dawn  upon 
every  human  creature,  those  souls  will  be  in  perfect 
peace  who  trust  in  the  Great  Propitiation.  In  those 
great  tempests  that  are  to  shake  down  the  earth  and 
the  sky,  those  hearts  will  be  calm  and  happy  who 
are  hid  in  the  clefts  of  the  Kock  of  Ages.  Flee  then 
to  Christ,  ye  prisoners  of  hope.  Make  preparation 
to  know  even  as  you  are  known,  by  repentance 
toward  God  and  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  A 
voice  comes  to  you  out  of  the  cloud,  saying,  "  This 
is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  lam  well  pleased; 
hear  ye  Him."  Remember,  and  forget  not,  that  this 
knowledge  of  God  and  your  own  heart  is  inevitahle. 
At  death,  it  will  all  of  it  flash  upon  the  soul  like 
lio'htnino:  at  midni<2:ht.  It  will  fill  the  whole  hori- 
zon  of  your  being  full  of  light.  If  you  are  in  Christ 
Jesus,  the  light  will  not  harm  you.  But  if  you  are 
out  of  Christ,  it  will  blast  you.  No  sinful  mortal 
can  endure  such  a  vision  an  instant,  except  as  he  is 
sprinkled  with  atoning  blood,  and  clothed  in  the 
righteousness  of  the  great  Substitute  and  Surety 
for  guilty  man.  Flee  then  to  CIIEIST,  and  so  be 
prepared  to  know  God  and  your  own  heart,  even 
as  you  are  known. 


GOD'S  EXHAUSTIVE  KNOWLEDGE  OF  MA2T. 


FsALM  cxxxix.  1-6. — "  0  Lord,  thou  hast  searched  me,  and  known  me.  Thou 
knowest  ray  down-sitting  and  mine  uprising,  thou  understandest  my 
thought  afar  off.  Thou  compassest  my  path  and  my  lying  down,  and  art 
acquainted  with  all  my  ways.  For  there  is  not  a  word  in  my  tongue,  but, 
lo,  0  Lord,  thou  knowest  it  altogether.  Thou  hast  beset  me  behind  and 
before,  and  laid  thine  hand  upon  me.  Such  knowledge  is  too  wonderful 
for  me ;  it  is  liigh,  I  cannot  attain  unto  it." 


One  of  tlie  most  remarkable  cliaraeteristics  of  a 
rational  being  is  the  power  of  self-inspection.  The 
brute  creation  possesses  many  attributes  that  are 
common  to  human  nature,  but  it  has  no  faculty  that 
bears  even  the  remotest  resemblance  to  that  of  self- 
examination.  Instinctive  action,  undoubtedly,  ap- 
proaches the  nearest  of  any  to  human  action.  That 
wonderful  power  by  which  the  bee  builds  up  a 
structure  that  is  not  exceeded  in  accuracy,  and  regu- 
larity, and  economy  of  space,  by  the  best  geometry 
of  Athens  or  of  Rome;  by  which  the  beaver,  after 
having  chosen  the  very  best  possible  location  for  it 
on  the  stream,  constructs  a  dam  that  outlasts  the 
work  of  the  human  engineer ;  by  which  the  faith- 


god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man-.      41 

fill  clog  contiives  to  perform  many  acts  of  affection, 
in  spite  of  obstacles,  and  in  the  face  of  unexpected 
discouragements, — the  iiistltict^  we  say,  of  the  brute 
creation,  as  exhibited  in  a  remarkably  wide  range  of 
action  and  contrivance,  and  in  a  very  varied  and 
oftentimes  perplexing  conjuncture  of  circumstances, 
seems  to  bring  man  and  beast  very  near  to  each 
other,  and  to  furnish  some  ground  for  the  theory  of 
the  materialist,  that  there  is  no  essential  difference 
between  the  two  species  of  existences.  But  when 
Vv'e  pass  beyond  the  mere  power  of  acting,  to  the  ad- 
ditional power  of  surveying  ov  inspecting  an  act,  and 
of  forminoj  an  estimate  of  its  relations  to  moral  law, 
we  find  a  faculty  in  man  that  makes  him  differ  in 
kind  from  tlie  brute.  No  brute  animal,  however 
high  up  the  scale,  however  ingenious  and  sagacious 
he  may  be,  can  ever  look  back  and  think  of  what 
he  has  done,  "his  thouo-hts  the  meanwhile  accusing: 
or  else  excusino;  him." 

The  mere  power  of  performance,  is,  after  all,  not 
the  highest  power.  It  is  the  superadded  j^ower  of 
calmly  looking  over  the  performance,  and  seeing 
wJiat  has  been  done,  that  marks  the  higher  agency, 
and  denotes  a  loftier  order  of  existence  than  that  of 
the  animal  or  of  material  nature.  If  the  mere  abil- 
ity to  work  ^vith  energy,  and  produce  results,  con- 
stituted the  highest  species  of  powei',  the  force  of 
gravitation  would  be  the  loftiest  energy  in  the  uni- 
verse. Its  rangje  of  execution  is  wider  than  that  of 
any  other  created  principle.     Uut  it  is  one  of  the 


42      god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man. 

loAver  and  least  important  of  agencies,  because  it  is 
blind.  It  is  destitute  of  the  power  of  self-inspection. 
It  does  not  know  wliat  it  does,  or  wliy.  "  Man," 
says  Pascal,^  "  is  but  a  reed,  and  the  weakest  in  all 
nature  ;  yet  he  is  a  reed  that  thinks.  The  whole  ma- 
terial universe  does  not  need  to  arm  itself,  in  order 
to  crush  him.  A  vapor,  a  di'op  of  water  is  enough 
to  destroy  him.  But  if  the  whole  universe  of  mat- 
ter should  combine  to  crush  him,  man  would  be 
more  noble  than  that  which  destroyed  him.  For  he 
would  be  conscious  that  he  "was  dying,  while,  of  the 
advantage  which  the  material  universe  had  obtained 
over  him,  that  universe  would  know  nothino;.'''  The 
action  of  a  little  child  is  altogether  nothing  and  van- 
ity compared  with  the  energy  of  the  earthquake  or 
the  lio-htninor,  so  far  as  the  exhibition  of  force  and 
the  mere  power  to  act  is  concerned  ;  but,  on  the  oth- 
er hand,  it  is  more  solemn  than  centuries  of  merely 
natural  processes,  and  more  momentous  than  all  the 
material  phenomena  that  have  ever  filled  the  celestial 
spaces,  when  we  remember  that  it  is  the  act  of  a 
thinkino;  ao;ent,  and  a  self-conscious  creature.  The 
power  to  survey  the  act,  when  uni t.ed  with  the  pow- 
er to  act,  sets  mind  infinitely  above  matter^  and 
places  the  action  of  instinct,  wonderful  as  it  is,  infi- 
nitely below  the  action  of  self-consciousness.  The 
proud  words  of  one  of  the  characters  in  the  old 
drama  are  strictly  true  : 

*  Pknsees  :  Grandeur  de  I'liomme,  6.    Ed.  Wetstein. 


god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man.      43 

"  I  am  a  nobler  substance  than  the  stars, 
Or  are  they  better  since  they  are  bigger? 
I  have  a  will  and  faculties  of  choice, 
To  do  or  not  to  do :  and  reason  why 
I  do  or  not  do  this:  tlie  stars  have  none. 
They  know  not  wliy  they  shine,  more  than  this  taper, 
Nor  how  tliey  work,  uor  what."' 

But  this  cliaracteristic  of  a  rational  being,  though 
thus  distinctive  and  common  to  every  man  that 
lives,  is  exceedingly  marvellous.  Like  the  air  we 
breathe,  like  the  light  we  see,  it  involves  a  mystery 
that  no  man  has  ever  solved.  Self-consciousness 
has  been  the  problem  and  the  thorn  of  the  philoso- 
phic mind  in  all  ages;  and  the  mystery  is  not  yet 
imravelled.  Is  not  that  a  wonderful  process  by 
which  a  man  knows,  not  some  other  thing  but, 
himself  f  Is  not  that  a  strange  act  by  which  he, 
for  a  time,  duplicates  his  own  unity,  and  sets  him- 
self to  look  at  himself  ?  All  other  acts  of  conscious- 
ness are  comparatively  plain  and  explicable.  When 
we  look  at  an  object  other  than  ourselves, — when  we 
behold  a  tree  or  the  sky, — the  act  of  knowledge  is 
much  more  simple  and  easy  to  be  explained.  For 
then  there  is  something  outside  of  us,  and  in  front 
of  us,  and  another  thing  than  w^e  are,  at  which  we 
look,  and  which  we  behold.  But  in  this  actof  6*6V/- 
inspection  there  is  no  second  thing,  external,  and 
extant  to  us,  which  we  contemplate.  That  which 
is  seen  is  one  and  the  same  identical  object  with 

'  CuAPMAN  :  Byron's  Conspiracy. 


44         god's    EXHAUfeTIVE   KNOWLEDGE    OF   MAN". 

that  wLicli  sees.  The  act  of  knowledge  wliicli  iD 
all  other  instances  requires  the  existence  of  two 
things, — a  thing  to  be  known  and  a  thing  to  know, — - 
in  this  instance  is  performed  with  only  one.  It  is 
the  individual  soul  that  sees,  and  it  is  that  very 
same  individual  soul  that  is  seen.  It  is  the  indi- 
vidual man  that  knows,  and  it  is  that  very  identi- 
cal man  that  is  known.  The  eyeball  looks  at  the 
eyeball. 

And  when  this  power  of  self-inspection  is  con- 
nected with  the  power  of  memory,  the  mystery  of 
human  existence  becomes  yet  more  complicated,  and 
its  explanation  still  more  baffling.  Is  it  not  exceed- 
ingly wonderful,  that  we  are  able  to  re-exhibit  our 
own  thoughts  and  feelings ;  that  we  can  call  back 
what  has  gone  clear  by  in  our  experience,  and 
steadily  look  at  it  once  more  ?  Is  it  not  a  mystery 
that  we  can  summon  before  our  mind's  eye  feelings, 
purposes,  desires,  and  thoughts,  which  occui-red  in 
the  soul  long  years  ago,  and  which,  perhaps,  until  this 
moment,  we  have  not  thought  of  for  years  ?  Is  it  not 
a  marvel,  that  they  come  up  with  all  the  vividness 
with  which  they  first  took  origin  in  our  experience, 
and  that  the  lapse  of  time  has  deprived  them  of 
none  of  their  first  outlines  or  colors  ?  Is  it  not 
strange,  that  we  can  recall  that  one  particular  feeling 
of  hatred  toward  a  fellow-man  which  rankled  in 
the  heart  twenty  years  ago;  that  we  can  now  eye 
it,  and  see  it  as  plainly  as  if  it  were  still  throbbing 
within  us ;  that  we  can  feel  guilty  for  it  once  more, 


GODS    EXHAUSTIVE    KIS'^OWLEDGE    OF   MAN".         45 

as  if  we  were  still  cherishing  it  ?  If  it  were  not  so 
common,  would  it  not  be  surprising,  that  we  can 
reflect  upon  acts  of  disobedience  toward  God 
which  we  committed  in  the  days  of  childhood,  and 
far  back  in  the  diiu  twilights  of  moral  agency ; 
that  we  can  re-act  them,  as  it  were,  in  our  memory, 
and  till  ourselves  airain  with  the  shame  and  distress 
that  attended  their  oi'iii^inal  commission  ?  Is  it  not 
one  of  those  mysteries  which  overhang  human  exist- 
ence, and  from  which  that  of  the  brute  is  wholly 
free,  that  man  can  live  his  life,  and  act  his  agency, 
over,  and  over,  and  over  again,  indefinitely  and  for- 
ever, in  his  self  consciousness ;  that  he  can  cause  all 
his  deeds  to  pass  and  re-pass  beft)re  his  self-reflection, 
and  be  filled  throuo-h  and  throus-h  with  the  a2;ony 
of  self  knowledge?  Truly  such  knowledge  is  too 
wonderful  for  me ;  it  is  high,  I  cannot  attain  unto  it. 
x^Whither  shall  I  go  from  my  own  spirit,  and  whith- 
er shall  I  flee  from  ray  ow)i  presence.  If  I  ascend  up 
into  heaven,  it  is  there  looking  at  me.  If  I  make 
my  bed  in  hell,  behold  it  is  there  torturing  me.  If 
I  take  the  wings  of  the  morning  and  dwell  in  the 
uttermost  parts  of  the  sea,  even  there  must  I  know 
myself,  and  acquit  or  condemn  myself. 

But  if  that  knowledge  whereby  man  knows  him- 
self is  mysterious,  then  certainly  that  whereby  God 
knows  him  is  far  more  so.  That  act  whereby  anoth- 
er being  knows  my  secret  thoughts,  and  inmost  feel- 
ings, is  most  certainly  inexplicable.  That  cognition 
whereby  another  person    understands  what   takes 


46         god's    exhaustive   knowledge   of   MAIS". 

place  in  tlie  corners  of  my  "heart,  and  sees  the  mi- 
nutest movements  of  my  spirit,  is  surely  high ;  most 
surely  I  cannot  attain  unto  it. 

And  yet,  it  is  a  truth  of  revelation  that  God 
searches  the  heart  of  man;  that  He  knows  his  down- 
sitting  and  uprising,  and  understands  his  thought 
afar  off;  that  He  compasses  his  path  and  his  lying- 
down,  and  is  acquainted  with  all  his  ways.  And 
yet,  it  is  a  deduction  of  reason,  also,  that  because 
God  is  the  creator  of  the  human  mind,  He  must  per- 
fectly understand  its  secret  agencies ;  that  He  in 
whose  Essence  man  lives  and  moves  and  has  his 
being,  must  behold  every  motion,  and  feel  every 
stirring  of  the  human  spirit.  "  He  that  planted 
the  eai',  shall  He  not  hear  ?  He  that  formed  the  eye. 
shall  He' not  see?"  Let  us,  then,  ponder  the  fact  of 
God's  exhaustive  knowledfre  of  man's  soul,  that  we 
may  realize  it,  a]:d  thereby  come  under  its  solemn 
power  and  impression.  For  all  religion,  all  holy 
and  reverential  fear  of  God,  rises  and  sets,  as  in  an 
atmosphere,  bi  the  thought:  "Thou  God  seest 
me." 

I.  In  analviinsrand  estimatino;  the  Divine  knowl- 
edge  of  the  haman  soul,  we  find,  in  the  first  j)l'i^e, 
that  God  accurately  and  exhaustively  knows  all 
that  'man  hioios  of  himself. 

Every  man  in  a  Christian  land,  who  is  in  the 
habit  of  frequenting  the  house  of  God,  possesses 
more  or  less  of  that  self-knowled2:e  of  which  we 
have  spoken.     He  thinks  of  the  moral  character  of 


god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man.      47 

some  of  Ills  own  tliouglits.  He  reflects  upon  the 
moral  quality  of  some  of  his  own  feelings.  He 
considers  the  ultimate  tendency  of  some  of  his  own 
actions.  In  other  words,  there  is  a  part  of  his  in- 
ward and  his  outward  life  with  which  he  is  uncom- 
monly well  acquainted ;  of  which  he  has  a  distinct 
perception.  There  are  some  thoughts  of  his  mind, 
at  which  he  blushes  at  the  very  time  of  their  origin, 
because  he  is  vividly  aware  what  they  are,  and 
what  they  mean.  Tliere  are  some  emotions  of  his 
heart,  at  which  he  trembles  and  recoils  at  the  very 
moment  of  their  uprising,  because  he  perceives 
clearly  that  they  involv^e  a  very  malignant  deprav- 
ity. There  are  some  actings  of  his  will,  of  whose 
wickedness  he  is  painfully  conscious  at  the  very 
instant  of  their  rush  and  movement.  We  are  not 
called  upon,  here,  to  say  how  many  of  a  man's 
thoughts,  feelings,  and  determinations,  are  thus  sub- 
jected to  his  self-inspection  at  the  ver}^  time  of  their 
origin,  and  are  known  in  the  clear  light  of  self- 
knowledge.  We  are  not 'concerned,  at  this  point, 
with  the  amount  of  this  man's  self-inspection  and 
self-knowledge.  We  are  only  saying  that  there 
is  some  experience  such  as  this  in  his  personal 
history,  and  that  he  does  know  something  of  him- 
self, at  the  very  time  of  action,  with  a  clearness 
and  a  distinctness  that  makes  him  start,  or  blush, 
or  fear. 

Now  we  say,  that  in  reference  to  all  this  intimate 
self-knowledge,  all  this  best  part  of  a  man's  infor- 


48       god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  MAIiJ-. 

mation  respecting  liimself,  he  is  not  superior  to  God. 
lie  may  be  certain  that  in  no  particnlar  does  he 
know  more  of  himself  than  the  Searcher  of  hearts 
knows.  He  may  be  an  uncommonly  thoughtful 
person,  and  little  of  what  is  done  within  his  soul 
may  escape  his  notice, — nay,  we  will  make  the  ex- 
treme supposition  that  he  arrests  every  thought  as 
it  rises,  and  looks  at  it,  that  he  analyzes  every  sen- 
timent as  it  swells  his  heart,  that  he  scrutinizes 
every  purpose  as  it  determines  his  will, — even  if  he 
should  have  such  a  thorough  and  profound  self- 
knowledge  as  this,  God  knows  him  equally  pro- 
foundly, and  equally  thoroughly.  Nay  more,  this 
process  of  self-inspection  may  go  on  indefinitely, 
and  the  man  may  grow  more  and  more  thoughtful, 
and  obtain  an  everlastingly  augmenting  knowledge 
of  what  he  is  and  what  he  does,  so  that  it  shall  seem 
to  him  that  he  is  going  down  so  far  along  that  path 
which  the  vulture's  eye  hath  not  seen,  is  penetrating 
so  deeply  into  those  dim  and  shadowy  regions  of 
consciousness  whei'e  the  external  life  takes  its  very 
first  start,  as  to  be  beyond  the  reach  of  any  eye,  and 
the  ken  of  any  intelligence  but  his  own,  and  then 
he  may  be  sure  that  God  understands  the  thought 
that  is  afar  off,  and  deep  down,  and  that  at  this 
lowest  range  and  plane  inliis  experience  He  besets 
him  behind  and  before. 

Or,  this  man,  like  the  most  of  mankind,  may  be 
an  unreflecting  person.  Then,  in  this  case,  thoughts, 
feelings,   and  purposes  are   continually  rising   up 


GOD  S    EXHAUSTIVE    KNOWLEDGE    OF   MAN.         49 

within  bis  soul  like  tlie  clouds  and  exhalations  of 
an  evaporating  deluge,  and  at  the  time  of  their  rise 
he  subjects  tliein  to  no  scrutiny  of  conscience,  and 
is  not  pained  in  the  least  by  their  moral  character 
and  sifrnificance.  He  lacks  self-knowledi^e  altoixeth- 
er,  at  tliese  points  in  his  history.  But,  notice  that 
the  fact  tliat  he  is  not  self-inspecting  at  these  points 
cannot  destroy  the  fact  that  he  is  acting  at  them. 
The  fact  that  he  is  not  a  spectator  of  his  own  trans- 
gression, does  not  alter  the  fact  that  he  is  the  au- 
thor of  it.  If  this  man,  for  instance,  thinks  over 
his  worldly  affairs  on  God's  holy  day,  and  perhaps 
in  God's  holy  house,  with  such  an  absorption  and 
such  a  pleasure  that  he  entirely  drowns  the  voice 
of  conscience  while  he  is  so  doing,  and  self-inspec- 
tion is  banished  for  the  time,  it  will  not  do  for  him 
to  plead  this  absence  of  a  distinct  and  painful  con- 
sciousness of  what  his  mind  was  actually  doing  in 
the  house  of  God,  and  upon  the  Lord's  day,  as  the 
palliative  and  excuse  of  his  wrong  thoughts.  If 
this  man,  again,  indulges  in  an  envious  or  a  sensual 
emotion,  with  such  an  energy  and  entireness,  as  for 
the  time  being  to  preclude  all  action  of  the  higher 
powers  of  reason  and  self-reflection,  so  that  for  the 
time  being  he  is  not  in  the  least  troubled  by  a  sense 
of  his  wickedness,  it  will  be  no  excuse  for  him  at 
the  eternal  bar,  that  he  was  not  thinking  of  his  envy 
or  his  lust  at  the  time  when  he  felt  it.  And  there- 
fore it  is,  that  accountableness  covers  the  whole 
field  of  human  agency,  and  God  holds  us  responsi- 


60      god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man. 

ble  for  our  tliouglitless  sin,  as  well  as  for  our  delib- 
erate transojression. 

In  the  instance,  then,  of  the  thoughtless  man  ;  in 
the  case  where  there  is  little  or  no  self-examination  ; 
God  unquestionably  knows  the  man  as  well  as  the 
man  knows  himself.  The  Omniscient  One  is  cer- 
tainly possessed  of  an  amount  of  knowledge  equal 
to  that  small  modicum  which  is  all  that  a  rational 
and  immortal  soul  can  boast  of  in  reference  to  itself. 
But  the  vast  majority  of  mankind  fall  into  this  class. 
Tlie  self-examiners  are  very  few,  in  comparison  with 
the  millions  who  possess  the  power  to  look  into 
their  hearts,  but  who  rarely  or  never  do  so.  The 
great  God  our  Judge,  then,  surely  knows  the  mass 
of  men,  in  their  down-sitting  and  uprising,  with  a 
knowledge  that  is  equal  to  their  own.  And  thus 
do  we  establish  our  first  position,  that  God  knows 
all  that  the  man  knows ;  God's  knowledge  is  equal 
to  the  very  best  part  of  man's  knowledge. 

In  concluding  this  part  of  the  discussion,  we  turn 
to  consider  some  practical  lessons  suggested  by  it. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  the  subject  reminds  us  that  we 
are fearf  ally  and  loonderfiillu  made.  When  we  take 
a  solar  microscope  and  examine  even  the  common- 
est object — a  bit  of  sand,  or  a  hair  of  our  heads — - 
we  are  amazed  at  the  revelation  that  is  made  to  us. 
We  had  no  previous  conception  of  the  wonders  that 
are  contained  in  the  structure  of  even  such  ordinary 
things  as  these.  But,  if  we  should  obtain  a  corre- 
Bponding  view  of  our  own  mental  and  moral  struc- 


god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man.      51 

tiire  ;  if  we  could  su])ject  our  immortal  natures  to  a 
microscopic  self-examination ;  we  should  not  only 
be  surprised,  but  we  should  be  terrified.  This  ex- 
j)lains,  in  part,  the  consternation  with  which  a  crim-- 
inal  is  filled,  as  soon  as  he  begins  to  understand  the 
nature  of  his  crime.  His  wicked  act  is  perceived 
in  its  relation  to  his  own  mental  powers  and  facul- 
ties. He  knows,  now,  what  a  hazardous  thing  it  is 
to  possess  a  free-will ;.  what  an  awful  thing  it  is  to 
own  a  conscience.  Ho  feels,  as  he  never  did  before, 
that  he  is  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made,  and 
cries  out :  "  Oh  that  I  had  never  been  born  !  Oh  that 
I  had  never  been  created  a  responsible  being!  these 
terril^Ie  faculties  of  rea^-ion,  and  will,  and  conscience, 
are  too  heavy  for  me  to  wield  ;  would  that  I  had 
been  created  a  worm,  and  no  man,  then,  I  should 
not  have  incurred  the  hazards  uuder  which  I  have 
sinned  and  ruined  myself. "' 

The  constitution  of  the  human  soul  is  indeed  a 
wonderful  one;  and  such  a  meditation  as  that 
which  we  have  just  devoted  to  its  functions  of  self- 
examination  and  memory,  brief  though  it  be,  is 
enough  to  convince  us  of  it.  And  remember,  that 
this  constitution  is  not  peculiar  to  you  and  to  me. 
It  belongs  to  every  human  creature  on  the  globe. 
The  imbruted  pagan  in  the  fier}'  centre  of  Africa, 
who  never  saw  a  Bible,  or  heard  of  the  Redeemer  ; 
the  equally  imbruted  man,  woman,  or  child,  who 
dwells  in  the  slime  of  our  own  civilization,  not  a 
mile  from  where  we  sit,  and  hear  the  tidings  of 


52      god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man. 

mercy ;  the  filtb^y  savage,  nncl  tlie  yet  filtliier  prof- 
ligate, are  botli  of  them  alike  with  ourselves  pos- 
sessed of  these  awful  j)owers  of  self-knowledge  and 
of  memory. 

Think  of  this,  ye  earnest  and  faithful  laboi'ers  in 
the  vineyard  of  the  Lord.  There  is  not  a  child  that 
you  allure  into  your  Sabbath  Schools,  and  your 
Mission  Schools,  that  is  not  fearfully  and  wonder- 
fully made  ;  and  wliose  marvellous  powers  you  are 
doing  much  to  render  to  their  possessor  a  blessing, 
instead  of  a  curse.  When  Sir  Humphry  Davy, 
in  answer  to  an  inquiry  that  had  l)een  made  of  him 
respecting  the  number  and  series  of  his  discoveries 
in  chemistry,  had  gone  through  with  the  list,  he 
added :  "  But  the  greatest  of  my  discoveries  is 
Michael  Faraday."  This  Michael  Faraday  was  a 
poor  boy  employed  in  the  menial  services  of  the 
laboratoi-y  where  Davy  made  those  w<niderful  dis- 
covei'ies  by  which  he  revolutionized  the  science  of 
chemistry,  and  whose  chemical  genius  he  detected, 
elicited,  and  encouraged,  until  he  finally  took  the 
place  of  his  teacher  and  patron,  and  acquired  a 
name  that  is  now  one  of  the  influences  of  England. 
Well  might  he  say :  "  My  greatest  discovery  was 
when  I  detected  the  wonderful  powers  of  Michael 
Faraday."  And  never  will  you  make  a  greater  and 
more  beneficent  discovery,  than  when,  under  the 
thick  scurf  of  pauperism  and  vice,  you  detect  the 
human  soul  that  is  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made ; 
than  when  you  elicit  its  powers  of  self-consciousness 


god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man.      53 

and  of  memory,  aud,  instrumentally,  dedicate  tliem 
to  the  service  of  Christ  and  the  Church. 

2.  In  tlie  second  place,  we  see  from  the  subject, 
that  thoughtlessness  in  sin  ivill  never  excuse  sin. 
There  are  degrees  in  sin.  A  deliberate,  self-con- 
scious act  of  sin  is  the  most  intense  form  of  moral 
evil.  When  a  man  has  an  active  conscience ;  when 
he  distinctly  thinks  over  the  nature  of  the  trans- 
gression which  he  is  tempted  to  commit;  when  he 
sees  clearly  that  it  is  a  direct  violation  of  a  com- 
mand of  God  which  he  is  about  to  enn:ao;e  in  ;  when 
he  says,  "I  know  that  this  is  positively  forbidden 
b}^  my  Maker  and  Judge,  but  I  ivill  do  it,'''' — ^we 
have  an  instance  of  the  most  heaven-daring;  sin. 
This  is  deliberate  and  wilfid  transgression.  The 
servant  knows  his  lord's  will  and  does  it  not,  and 
he  shall  be  beaten  with  "  many  stripes,"  says 
Christ. 

But,  such  sin  as  this  is  not  the  usual  form.  Most 
of  human  transgressions  are  not  accompanied  with 
such  a  distinct  apprehension,  and  such  a  deliberate 
determination.  The  sin  of  ignorance  and  thought- 
lessness is  the  species  which  is  most  common.  Men, 
generally,  do  not  first  think  of  what  they  are  about 
to  do,  and  then  proceed  to  do  it ;  but  they  first  pro- 
ceed to  do  it,  and  then  think  nothing  at  all  about  it. 

But,  thoughtlessness  will  not  excuse  sin ;  though 
it  is  a  somewhat  less  extreme  form  of  it,  than  de- 
liberate transgression.  Under  the  Levitical  law, 
the  sin  of  ignorance,  as  it  was  called,  was  to  be  ex- 


54      god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man. 

plated  by  a  somewliat  different  sacrifice  from  that 
offered  for  the  wilful  and  deliberate  sin  ;  but  it 
must  be  expiated.  A  victim  must  be  oifered  for  it. 
It  was  guilt  before  God,  and  needed  atonement. 
Our  Lord,  in  His  prayer  for  His  murderers,  said, 
"  Father  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what  they 
do."  The  act  of  crucifying  the  Lord  of  glory  was 
certainly  a  sin,  and  one  of  an  awful  nature.  But 
the  authors  of  it  were  not  fully  aware  of  its  import. 
They  did  not  understand  the  dreadful  significance 
of  the  crucifixion  of  the  Son  of  Grod,  as  we  now  un- 
derstand it,  in  the  light  of  eighteen  centuries.  Our 
Lord  alludes  to  this,  as  a  species  of  mitigation ; 
while  yet  He  teaches,  by  the  very  prayer  which  He 
puts  up  for  them,  that  this  ignorance  did  not  ex- 
cuse His  murderers.  He  asks  that  they  may  be 
forgiven.  But  where  there  is  absolutely  no  sin 
there  is  no  need  of  forgiveness.  It  is  one  of  our 
Lord's  assertions,  that  it  will  be  more  tolerable  for 
Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  in  the  day  of  judgment,  than 
it  will  be  for  those  inhabitants  of  Palestine  who 
would  not  hear  the  words  of  His  apostles, — because 
the  sin  of  the  former  was  less  deliberate  and  wilful 
than  that  of  the  latter.  But  He  would  not  have  us 
infer  from  this,  that  Sodom  and  Gomori'ah  are  not 
to  be  punished  for  sin.  And,  finally.  He  sums  up 
the  whole  doctrine  upon  this  point,  in  the  declara- 
tion, that  "  he  who  knew  his  master's  will  and  did 
it  not  shall  be  beaten  with  many  stripes ;  but  he 
who  knew  not  his  master's  will  and  did  it  not  shall 


god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man.      55 

be  beaten  with  few  stripes."  The  sin  of  thoughtless- 
ness shall  be  beaten  with  fewer  stripes  than  the 
sin  of  deliberation, — but  it  shall  be  heateiiy  and 
therefore  it  is  sin. 

The  almost  universal  indifference  and  thoucrht- 
lessness  with  which  men  live  on  in  a  worldly  and 
selfish  life,  will  not  excuse  them  in  the  day  of  ac- 
curate accounts.  And  the  reason  is,  that  they  are 
capable  of  thln7i'lfi(/ upon  the  law  of  Grod ;  of  tliiiik- 
ing  upon  their  duties  ;  of  tliinhmg  upon  their  sins. 
They  possess  the  wonderful  faculties  of  self-inspec- 
tion and  memory,  and  therefore  they  are  capable  of 
bringing  their  actions  into  light.  It  is  the  com- 
mand of  God  to  every  man,  and  to  every  rational 
spirit  everywhere,  to  walk  in  the  light,  and  to  be  a 
child  of  the  lic^ht.  We  oui>-lit  to  examine  ourselves : 
to  understand  our  ruling  motives  and  abiding  pur- 
poses; to  scrutinize  our  feelings  and  conduct.  But 
if  we  do  little  or  nothing  of  this,  we  must  not  ex- 
pect that  in  the  day  of  judgment  we  can  plead  our 
thoughtless  ignorance  of  what  we  were,  and  what 
we  did,  here  upon  earth,  as  an  excuse  for  our  dis- 
obedience. God  expects,  and  demands,  that  every 
one  of  His  rational  creatures  should  be  all  that  he 
is  capable  of  being.  He  gave  man  wonderful  fac- 
ulties and  endowments, — ten  talents,  five  talents, 
two  talents, — and  He  will  require  the  whole  oi-igi- 
nal  sum  given,  together  with  a  faithful  use  and  im- 
provement of  it.  The  very  thoughtlessness  then, 
particularly  under   the  Gospel   dispensation, — the 


56      god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  matt. 

very  neglect  and  non-use  of  the  power  of  self- 
inspection, — will  go  in  to  constitute  a  part  of  the 
sin  tLat  will  l)e  punished.  Instead  of  being  au 
excuse,  it  will  be  an  element  of  the  condemnation 
itself. 

3.  In  the  third  place,  even  the  sinner  himself 
ought  to  rejoice  in  the  fact  that  God  is  the  Searcher 
of  the  heart.  It  is  instinctive  and  natural,  that  a 
transgressor  should  attempt  to  conceal  his  charac- 
ter from  his  Maker ;  but  next  to  his  sin  itself,  it 
would  be  the  greatest  injury  that  he  could  do  to 
himself,  should  he  succeed  in  his  attempt.  Even 
after  the  commission  of  sin,  there  is  every  reason  for 
desii'ing  that  God  should  compass  our  path  and 
lying  down,  and  be  acquainted  ^vith  all  our  ways. 
For,  He  is  the  only  being  who  can  forgive  sin ;  the 
only  one  who  can  renew  and  sanctify  the  heart. 
There  is  the  same  motive  for  havino;  the  disease  of 
the  soul  understood  by  God,  that  there  is  for  hav- 
ing the  disease  of  the  body  examined  by  a  skilfid 
physician.  Nothing  is  gained,  but  every  thing  is 
lost,  by  ignorance. 

The  sinner,  therefore,  has  the  strono^est  of  motives 
for  rejoicing  in  the  truth  that  God  sees  him.  It 
ought  not  to  be  an  unwelcome  fact  even  to  him. 
For  how  can  his  sin  be  pardoned,  unless  it  is  clear 
ly  understood  by  the  pardoning  power?  How 
can  his  soul  be  purified  from  its  inward  cor- 
ruption, unless  it  is  searched  by  the  Spirit  of  all 
holiness  ? 


god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man.      57 

Instead,  therefore,  of  being  repelled  by  such  a 
solemn  truth  as  that  which  we  have  been  discussinsr, 
even  the  natui-al  man  should  be  allured  by  it.  For 
it  teaches  him  that  there  is  help  for  him  in  God. 
His  own  knowledc^e  of  his  own  heart,  as  we  have 
seen,  is  very  imperfect  and  very  inadequate.  But 
the  Divine  knowledge  is  thoroughly  adequate.  He 
may,  therefore,  devolve  his  case  with  confidence 
upon  the  unerring  One.  Let  him  take  words  upon 
his  lips,  and  cry  unto  Him:  "Search  me,  O  God, 
and  try  me;  and  see  what  evil  ways  there  are  in 
me,  and  lead  me  in  the  way  everlasting."  Let  him 
endeavor  to  come  into  possession  of  the  Divine 
knowledge.  There  is  no  presumption  in  this.  God 
desires  that  he  should  know  himself  as  He  knows 
him ;  that  he  should  get  possession  of  His  views 
upon  this  point ;  that  he  should  see  bimself  as  He 
sees  him.  One  of  the  principal  sins  which  God  has 
to  charge  upon  the  sinner  is,  that  his  apprehensions 
respecting  his  own  character  are  in  conflict  with  the 
Divin'e.  Nothing  -would  more  certainly  meet  the 
appi'obation  of  God,  than  a  renunciation  of  human 
estimates  of  human  nature,  and  the  adoption  of 
those  contained  in  the  inspired  word.  Endeavor, 
therefore,  to  obtain  the  very  same  knowledge  of 
your  heart  which  God  Himself  possesses.  And  in 
this  endeavor,  He  will  assist  you.  The  influences 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  enlighten  are  most  positively 
promised  and  proffered.  Therefore  be  not  repelled 
by  the  truth ;  but  be  drawn  by  it    to  a  deeper, 


58      god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man. 

truer  knowledge  of  your  heart.  Lift  up  your  soul 
in  prayer,  and  beseech  God  to  impart  to  you  a  pro- 
found knowledge  of  yourself,  and  then  to  sprinkle 
all  your  discovered  guilt,  and  all  your  undiscovered 
guilt,  with  atoning  blood.  This  is  salvation  /  first 
to  know  yourself,  and  then  to  know  Christ  as  your 
Prophet,  Priest,  and  King. 


GOD'S  EXHAUSTIVE  KNOWLEDGE  OP  MAN. 


Psalm  cxxxix.  1-6.—"  0  Lord,  thou  hast  searched  me,  and  known  me.  Thou 
knowest  my  down-sitting  and  mine  uprising;  thou  understandest  my 
thought  afar  off.  Thou  compassest  my  path  and  my  Ij'ing  down,  and  art 
acquainted  with  all  my  ways.  For  there  is  not  a  word  in  my  tongue,  but 
lo,  0  Lord,  thou  knowest  it  altogether.  Thou  hast  beset  me  behind  and 
before,  and  laid  thy  hand  upon  me.  Such  knowledge  is  too  wonderful 
for  me;  it  is  high,  I  cannot  attain  unto  it." 


In  tlie  preceding  discourse  upon  this  text,  we  di- 
rected attention  to  the  fact  that  man  is  possessed  of 
the  power  of  self-knowledge,  and  that  he  cannot 
ultimately  escape  from  using  it.  He  cannot  forever 
flee  from  his  own  presence ;  he  cannot,  through  all 
eternity,  go  away  from  his  own  spirit.  If  he  take 
the  wino-s  of  the  mornino;  and  dwell  in  the  utter- 
most  parts  of  the  earth,  he  must,  sooner  or  later, 
know  himself,  and  acquit  or  condemn  himself. 

Our  attention  was  then  directed  to  the  fact,  that 
God's  knowledge  of  man  is  certainly  equal  to  man's 
knowledge  of  himself.  No  man  knows  more  of  his 
own  heart  than  the  Searcher  of  hearts  knoW'S.  Up 
to  tliis  point,  certainly,  the  truth  of  the  text  is  in- 
controvertible.    God  knows  all  that  man  knows. 

n.  We  come  now  to  the  second  position :  That 


60      god's  exhaustive  kt^owledge  of  MAHr. 

God  accurately  and  exhaustively  Icnows  all  that  ma/ii 
mighty  hut  does  not.,  hnoiv  of  himself. 

Althougli  the  Creator  designed  that  every  man 
sliould  tlioroughly  understand  his  own  heart,  and 
gave  him  the  power  of  self-inspection  that  he  might 
use  it  fill thf ally,  and  apply  it  constantly,  yet  man  is 
extremely  ignorant  of  himself.  Mankind,  says  an 
old  writer,  are  nowhere  less  at  home,  than  at  home. 
Very  few  persons  practise  serious  self-examination 
at  all ;  and  none  employ  the  power  of  self-inspec- 
tion with  that  carefulness  and  sedulity  with  which 
they  ought.  Hence  men  generally,  and  unrenewed 
men  always,  are  unacquainted  with  much  that  goes 
on  within  their  own  minds  and  hearts.  Though  it 
is  sin  and  self-will,  though  it  is  thought  and  feeling 
and  purpose  and  desire,  that  is  going  on  and  taking 
2:)lace  during  all  these  years  of  religious  indifference, 
yet  the  agent  himself,  so  far  as  a  sober  reflection 
upon  the  moral  character  of  the  process,  and  a  dis- 
tinct perception  of  the  dreadful  issue  of  it,  are  con- 
cerned, is  much  of  the  time  as  destitute  of  self- 
knowledge  as  an  irrational  brute  itself.  For,  were 
sinful  men  constantly  self-examining,  they  would  be 
constantly  in  torment.  Men  can  be  happy  in  sin,  only 
so  long  as  they  can  sin  without  thinking  of  it.  The 
instant  they  begin  to  perceive  and  understand  lohat 
they  are  doing,  they  begin  to  feel  the  fang  of  the 
worm.  If  the  frivolous  wicked  world,  which  now 
takes  so  much  pleasure  in  its  wickedness,  could  be 
forced  to  do  here  what  it  will  be  forced  to  do  here- 


god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man.      61 

after,  namely,  to  eye  its  slu  while  it  commits  it,  to 
tldiih  of  what  it  is  doing  while  it  does  it,  the  bil- 
lows of  the  lake  of  lire  would  roll  in  upon  time,  and 
from  gay  Paris  and  luxurious  Vienna  there  would 
instantaneously  ascend  the  wailing  cry  of  Pande- 
monium. 

But  it  is  not  so  at  present.  Men  here  upon  earth 
ai'e  continually  thinking  sinful  thoughts  and  cher- 
isliing  sinful  feelings,  and  yet  they  are  not  contin- 
ually in  hell.  On  the  contrary,  "  they  are  not  in 
trouble  as  other  men  are,  neither  are  they  plagued 
like  other  men.  Their  eyes  stand  out  with  fatness  ; 
they  have  more  than  heart  could  wish."  This 
])roves  that  they  are  self-ignorant ;  that  they  know 
neither  their  sin  nor  its  bitter  end.  They  sin  with- 
out the  co)iscious)iess  of  sin,  and  hence  are  happy  in 
it.  Is  it  not  so  in  our  own  personal  experience  ? 
Have  there  not  been  in  the  past  tea  years  of  our 
own  mental  history  long  trains  of  thought, — sinful 
thought, — and  vast  processions  of  feelings  and  im- 
aginings,— sinful  feelings  and  imaginings, — that 
have  trailed  over  the  spaces  of  the  soul,  but  which 
have  been  as  unwatched  and  unseen  by  the  self-in- 
specting eye  of  conscience,  as  the  caravans  of  the 
African  desert  have  been,  during  the  same  period, 
by  the  eye  of  our  sense  ?  We  have  not  felt  a  pang 
of  guilt  every  single  time  that  we  have  -a  thought 
a  wrong  thought ;  yet  we  should  have  felt  one  inev- 
itably, had  we  scrutinized  every  such  single  thought. 
Our  face  has  not  flushed  with  crimson  in  every  par- 


62      god's  exhaustive  kistowledge  of  man. 

ticular  instance  in  which  we  have  exercised  a  lustful 
emotion;  yet  it  would  have  done  so  had  we  care- 
fully noted  every  such  emotion.  A  distinct  self- 
knowledge  has  by  no  means  run  parallel  with  all 
our  sinful  activity;  has  by  no  means  been  co-exten- 
sive with  it.  We  perform  vastly  more  than  we  in- 
spect. We  have  sinned  vastly  more  than  we  have 
been  aware  of  at  the  time. 

Even  the  Christian,  in  whom  this  unreflecting  spe- 
cies of  life  and  conduct  has  given  way,  somewhat, 
to  a  thousfhtful  and  viirilant  life,  knows  and  acknowl- 
edges  that  perfection  is  not  yet  come.  As  he  casts 
his  eye  over  even  his  regenerate  and  illuminated 
life,  and  sees  what  a  small  amount  of  sin  has  been 
distinctly  detected,  keenly  felt,  and  heartily  con- 
fessed, in  comparison  with  that  large  amount  of  sin 
which  he  knows  he  must  have  committed,  during 
this  long  period  of  incessant  action  of  mind,  heart, 
and  limbs,  he  finds  no  repose  for  his  misgivings 
with  respect  to  the  final  examination  and  account, 
except  by  enveloping  himself  yet  more  entirely  in 
the  ample  folds  of  his  Redeemer's  righteousness ; 
except  by  hiding  himself  yet  more  profoundly  in  the 
cleft  of  that  Kock  of  Ages  which  protects  the  chief 
of  sinners  from  the  unsufferable  splendors  and  terrors 
of  the  Divine  glory  and  holiness  as  it  passes  by. 
Even  the  Christian  knows  that  he  must  have  com- 
mitted many  sins  in  thoughtless  moments  and 
hours, — many  sins  of  which  he  was  not  deliberately 
thinking   at   the   time  of  their  commission, — and 


god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man.      63 

must  pray  with  David,  "  Cleanse  tbou  me  from  se- 
cret faults."  The  fimctions  and  operations  of  mem- 
ory evince  that  such  is  the  case.  Are  we  not  some- 
times, in  our  serious  hours  when  memory  is  busy, 
convinced  of  sins  which,  at  the  time  of  their  com- 
mission, were  wholly  unaccompanied  v;ith  a  sense  of 
their  sinfulness?  The  act  in  this  instance  was  per- 
formed blindly,  without  self-inspection,  and  there- 
fore without  self-conviction.  Ten  years,  we  will 
say,  have  intervened, — years  of  new  activity,  and 
immensely  varied  experiences.  And  now  the  magic 
l)ower  of  recollection  sets  us  back,  once  more,  at 
that  Y>omt  of  responsible  action,  and  bids  do  what 
we  did  not  do  at  the  time, — analyze  our  performance 
and  feel  consciously  guilty,  experience  the  first  sensa- 
tion of  remorse,  for  what  we  did  ten  years  ago. 
Have  we  not,  sometimes,  been  vividly  reminded 
that  upon  such  an  occasion,  and  at  such  a  time,  we 
"w^ere  angry,  or  proud,  but  at  the  time  when  the 
emotion  was  swellinij  our  veins  were  not  filled  ^vitli 
that  clear  and  painful  sense  of  its  turpitude  which 
now  attends  the  recollection  of  it  ?  The  re-exhibi- 
tion of  an  action  in  memory,  as  in  a  mirror,  is  often 
accompanied  with  a  distinct  apprehension  of  its 
moral  character  that  formed  no  part  of  the  expe- 
rience of  the  agent  while  absorbed  in  the  hot  and 
hasty  original  action  itself.  And  when  we  remem- 
ber how  immense  are  the  stores  of  memory,  and 
what  an  amount  of  sin  has  been  committed  in  hours 
of  thoughtlessness   and  moral    indifference,  what 


64      god's  exiiafstive  knowledge  of  man. 

prayer  is  more  natural  and  warm  tlian  tlie  suj^plica- 
tiou  :  "  Search  me  O  God,  and  try  me,  and  see  what 
evil  ways  there  are  within  me,  and  lead  me  in  the 
way  ev^erlasting." 

But  the  careless,  unenlightened  man,  as  we  liave 
before  remarked,  leads  a  life  almost  entirely  desti- 
tute of  self-inspection,  and  self-knowledge.  He  sins 
constantly.  He  does  only  evil,  and  that  continually, 
as  did  man  before  the  deluge.  For  he  is  constantly 
acting.  A  living  self-moving  soul,  like  his,  cannot 
cease  action  if  it  would.  And  yet  the  current  is 
all  one  way.  Day  after  day  sends  up  its  clouds  of 
sensual,  worldly,  selfish  thoughts.  Week  after  week 
pours  onward  its  stream  of  low-born,  corrupt,  un- 
spiritual  feelings.  Year  after  year  accumulates  that 
hardening  mass  of  carnal-mindeduess,  and  distaste 
for  religion,  which  is  sometimes  a  more  insuperaljle 
obstacle  to  the  truth,  than  positive  faults  and  vices 
which  startle  and  shock  the  conscience.  And  yet 
the  man  thinhs  nothing  about  all  this  action  of  his 
mind  and  heart.  He  does  not  subject  it  to  any  self- 
inspection.  If  he  should,  for  but  a  single  hour,  be 
lifted  up  to  the  eminence  from  which  all  this  cur- 
rent of  self-will,  and  moral  agency,  may  be  seen  and 
surveyed  in  its  real  character  and  significance,  he 
would  start  back  as  if  brought  to  the  brink  of  hell. 
But  he  is  not  thus  lifted  up.  He  continues  to  use 
and  abuse  his  mental  and  his  moral  faculties,  but, 
for  most  of  his  probation,  with  all  the  blindness  and 
heedlessness  of  a  mere  animal  instinct. 


god's  exhaustive  kn"owledge  of  mak       65 

There  is,  then,  a  vast  amoiiiit  of  sin  committed 
without  self-inspection  ;  and,  consequently,  without 
any  distinct  perception,  at  the  time,  that  it  is  sin. 
The  Chi'istian  will  find  himself  feeling  guilty,  for 
the  first  time,  for  a  transgression  that  occurred  far 
hack  in  the  past,  and  will  need  a  fresli  application 
of  atoning  blood.  The  sinner  will  find,  at  some  pe- 
riod or  other,  that  remorse  is  fastening  its  tooth  in 
his  conscience  for  a  vast  amount  of  sinful  thought, 
feelinor,  desire,  and  motive,  that  took  orio-in  in  the 
unembarrassed  days  of  religious  thoughtlessness  and 
worldly  enjoyment. 

For,  think  you  that  the  insensible  sinner  is  always 
to  be  thus  insensible, — ^that  this  power  of  self-in- 
spection is  eternally  to  "  rust  unused  ?"  What  a 
tremendous  revelation  will  one  day  be  made  to  an 
unreflecting  transgressor,  simply  because  he  is  a  man 
and  not  a  brute,  lias  lived  a  human  life,  and  is  en- 
dowed with  the  power  of  self-knowledge,  whether 
he  has  used  it  or  not !  What  a  terrific  vision  it  will 
be  for  him,  wlien  tlie  limitless  line  of  his  sins  whicli 
lie  lias  not  yet  distinctly  examined,  and  thought  of, 
and  repented  of,  shall  be  made  to  pass  in  slow  pro- 
cession before  that  inward  eye  which  he  has  wicked- 
ly kept  shut  so  long !  Tell  us  not  of  the  disclosures 
that  shall  be  made  when  the  sea  shall  give  up  the 
dead  that  are  in  it,  and  the  graves  shall  open  and 
surrender  their  dead  ;  what  are  these  material  dis- ' 
closures,  when  compared  with  the  revelations  of  self- 
knowledge  !      What  is  all  this  external   display, 


66      god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  jiait. 

sombre  and  terrible  as  it  will  be  to  the  outward  eye, 
when  comj^ared  with  all  that  internal  revealing 
that  will  be  made  to  a  hitherto  thoughtless  soul, 
when,  of  a  sudden,  in  the  day  of  judgment,  its  deep- 
est caverns  shall  heave  in  unison  with  the  material 
convulsions  of  the  day,  and  shall  send  forth  to  judg- 
ment their  long  slumbering,  and  hidden  iniquity  ; 
when  the  sejDulchres  of  its  own  memory  shall  burst 
open,  and  give  up  the  sin  that  has  long  lain  buried 
there,  in  needless  and  guilty  forgetfulness,  awaiting 
this  second  resurrection ! 

For  (to  come  back  to  the  unfolding  of  the  sub- 
ject, and  the  movement  of  the  argument),  God  per- 
fectly knows  all  that  man  might,  but  does  not,  know 
of  himself  Thou2:h  the  trausOTessor  is  isfnorant  of 
much  of  his  sin,  because  at  the  time  of  its  commis- 
sion he  sins  blindly  as  well  as  wilfully,  and  unre- 
flectingly as  well  as  freely;  and  though  the  trans- 
gressor has  forgotten  much  of  that  small  amount  of 
sin  of  which  he  was  conscious,  and  by  which  he  was 
pained,  at  the  time  of  its  perpetration ;  though  on  the 
side  of  man  the  powers  of  self-inspection  and  mem- 
ory have  accomplished  so  little  towards  the  preser- 
vation of  man's  sin,  yet  God  knows  it  all,  and  re- 
members it  all.  He  compasseth  man's  path,  and  his 
lying-down,  and  is  acquainted  with  all  his  ways. 
"  There  is  nothing  covered,  therefore,  that  shall  not 
be  revealed,  neither  hid  that  shall  not  be  known. 
Whatsoever  ye  have  spoken  in  darkness  shall  be 
heard  in  the  light ;  and  that  which  ye  have  spoken 


god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man.      67 

in  tlie  ear  in  closets  shall  be  proclaimed  upon  the 
house-tops."  The  Creator  of  the  human  mind  has 
control  over  its  powers  of  self-inspection,  and  of 
memory ;  and  when  the  proper  time  comes  He  will 
compel  these  endowments  to  perform  their  legiti- 
mate functions,  and  do  their  ap2:)ointed  work.  The 
torturing  self-survey  will  begin,  never  more  to  end. 
The  awful  recollection  will  commence,  endlessly  to 
go  on. 

One  principal  reason  why  the  Biblical  represen- 
tations of  human  sinfulness  exert  so  little  influence 
over  men,  and,  generally  speaking,  seem  to  them  to 
be  greatly  exaggerated  and  untrue,  lies  in  the  fact 
that  the  Divine  knowledge  of  human  character  is 
in  advance  of  the  human  knowledge.  God's  con- 
sciousness and  cognition  upon  this  subject  is  ex- 
haustive ;  while  man's  self-knowledge  is  superficial 
and  shallow.  The  two  forms  of  knowledge,  conse- 
quently, when  placed  side  by  side,  do  not  agree,  but 
conflict.  There  would  be  less  difficulty,  and  less 
contradiction,  if  mankind  generally  were  possessed 
of  even  as  much  self-knowledoce  as  the  Christian  is 
possessed  of.  There  would  be  no  difficulty,  and 
no  contradiction,  if  the  knowledge  of  the  judgment- 
day  could  be  anticipated,  and  the  self-inspection  of 
that  occasion  could  commence  here  and  now.  But 
such  is  not  tlie  fact.  The  Bible  labors,  therefore, 
under  the  difficulty  of  possessing  an  advanced  knowl- 
edge; the  difficulty  of  being  addressed  to  a 
mind  that  is  almost  entirely  unacquainted  with  the 


68      god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  MAisr. 

subject  treated  of.  The  Word  of  God  knows  man 
exhaustively,  as  God  knows  him ;  and  hence  all  its 
descriptions  of  human  character  are  founded  upon 
such  a  knowledge.  But  man,  in  his  self-ignorance, 
does  not  perceive  their  awful  truth.  He  has  not 
yet  attained  the  internal  correspondent  to  the  Bibli- 
cal statement, — that  apprehension  of  total  depravity, 
that  knowledge  of  the  plague  of  the  heart,  which 
always  and  ever  says  "yea"  to  the  most  vivid  desci'ip- 
tion  of  human  sinfulness,  and  "  amen"  to  God's 
heaviest  malediction  upon  it.  Nothing  deprives  the 
Word  of  its  nerve  and  influence,  more  than  this  gen- 
eral lack  of  self-inspection  and  self-knowledge.  For, 
only  that  which  is  perceived  to  be  true  exerts  an 
influence  upon  the  human  mind.  The  doctrine  of 
human  sinfulness  is  preached  to  men,  year  after 
year,  to  whom  it  does  not  come  home  with  the  dem- 
onstration of  the  Spirit  and  with  power,  because 
the  sinfulness  which  is  really  within  them  is  as  yet 
unknown,  and  because  not  one  of  a  thousand  of 
tlieir  transgressions  has  ever  been  scanned  in  the 
light  of  self  examination.  But  is  the  Bible  untrue, 
because  the  man  is  ignorant?  Is  the  sun  black,  be- 
cause the  eye  is  shut  ? 

However  ignorant  man  may  be,  and  may  desire 
and  strive  to  be,  of  himself,  God  knows  him  altogeth- 
er, and  knows  that  the  representations  of  His  word, 
respecting  the  character  and  necessities  of  human 
nature,  are  the  unexaggerated,  sober,  and  actual 
fact.     Thouojh  most  of  the  sinner's  life  of  alienation 


god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man.      60 

from  God,  and  of  disobedience,  has  been  a  blind 
and  a  reckless  agency,  unaccompanied,  with  self- 
scrutiny,  and  to  a  great  extent  passed  from  his  mem- 
ory, yet  it  has  all  of  it  been  looked  at,  as  it  welled 
Tip  from  the  living  centres  of  free  agency  and  re- 
sponsibility, by  the  calm  and  dreadful  eye  of  I'etrib- 
utive  Justice,  and  has  all  of  it  been  indelibly  writ- 
ten down  in  the  book  of  Grod's  sure  memory,  with 
a  pen  of  iron,  and  the  point  of  a  diamond. 

And  here,  let  us  for  a  moment  look  upon  the 
bi'ight,  as  well  as  the  dark  side  of  this  subject.  For 
if  God's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  the  human  heart 
waken  dread  in  one  of  its  aspects,  it  starts  infinite 
hope  in  another.  If  that  Being  has  gone  down  into 
these  depths  of  human  depravity,  and  seen  it' with 
a  more  abhorring  glance  than  could  ever  shoot 
from  a  finite  eye,  and  yet  has  returned  with  a  cor- 
dial olfer  to  forgive  it  all,  and  a  hearty  proffer  to 
cleanse  it  all  away,  tlien  we  can  lift  up  tiie  eye  in 
adoration  and  in  liope.  There  has  been  an  infinite 
forbearance  and  condescension.  The  worst  has 
been  seen,  and  that  too  by  the  holiest  of  Beings, 
and  yet  eternal  glory  is  offered  to  us  !  God  knows, 
from  personal  examination,  the  worthlessness  of 
human  character,  with  a  thoroughness  and  intensity 
of  knowledge  of  which  man  has  no  conception  ;  and 
yet,  in  the  light  of  this  knowledge,  in  the  very  fl.ame 
of  this  intuition,  He  has  devised  a  plan  of  mercy 
and  redemption.  Do  not  think,  then,  because  of 
your  present  ignorance  of  your  guilt  and  corrui)tion, 

4* 


70      god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man. 

that  tlie  incarnation  and  death  of  the  Son  of  God 
was  unnecessary,  and  that  that  costly  blood  of 
atonement  which  you  are  treading  under  foot  wet 
the  rocks  of  Calvary  for  a  peccadillo.  Could  you, 
but  for  a  moment  only,  know  yourself  altogetlier 
and  exhaustively^  as  the  Author  of  this  Redemption 
knows  you,  you  would  cry  out,  in  the  words  of  a 
far  holier  man  than  you  are,  "  I  am  undone."  If 
you  could  but  see  guilt  as  God  sees  it,  you  would 
also  see  with  Him  that  nothino;  but  an  infinite  Pas- 
sion  can  expiate  it.  If  you  could  but  fathom  the 
human  heart  as  God  fathoms  it,  you  would  know 
as  He  knows,  that  nothino;  less  tham  reofeneration 
can  purify  its  fountains  of  uncleanness,  and  cleanse 
it  from  its  ingrain  corruption. 

Thus  have  we  seen  that  God  knows  man  alto- 
gether,— that  He  knows  all  that  man  knows  of  him- 
self, and  all  that  man  might  but  does  not  yet  know 
of  himself.  The  Searcher  of  hearts  kno^vs  all  the 
thoughts  that  we  have  thought  upon,  all  the  reflec- 
tions that  we  have  reflected  upon,  all  the  experience 
that  we  have  ourselves  analyzed  and  inspected. 
And  Pie  also  knows  that  far  larger  part  of  our  life 
which  we  have  not  yet  subjected  to  the  scrutiny  of 
self-examination, — all  those  thoughts,  feelings,  de- 
sires, and  motives,  innumerable  as  they  are,  of  which 
we  took  no  heed  at  the  time  of  their  orio-in  and  ex- 
istence,  and  which  we  suppose,  perhaps,  we  shall 
hear  no  more  of  again.  Whither  then  shall  we  go 
from  God's  s]3irit  ?  or  whither  shall  we  flee  from  His 


god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  matt.      71 

presence  aud  His  knowledge  ?  If  we  ascend  up 
into  heaven,  He  is  there,  and  knows  us  perfectly. 
If  we  make  our  bed  in  hell,  behold  He  is  there,  and 
reads  the  secret  thouo-hts  and  feelino-s  of  our  heart. 
The  darkness  hideth  not  from  Him ;  our  ignorance 
does  not  affect  His  knowledsre :  the  nijzlit  shineth 
as  the  day ;  the  darkness  and  the  light  are  both 
alike  to  Him. 

This  o-reat  truth  which  we  have  been  considerinof 
obtains  a  yet  more  serious  emphasis,  and  a  yet  more 
solemn  power  over  the  mind,  when  we  take  into 
view  the  character  of  the  Beins;  who  thus  searches 
our  hearts,  and  is  acquainted  with  all  our  ways. 
Who  of  us  would  not  be  filled  with  uneasiness,  if 
he  knew  that  an  iniperfect  fellow-creature  were  look- 
ing constantly  into  his  soul  ?  Would  not  the  flush 
of  shame  often  burn  upon  our  cheek,  if  we  knew 
that  a  sinful  man  like  oui'selves  were  watchins;  all 
the  feelinfifs  and  thou2:hts  that  are  rising:  within  us  ? 
Should  we  not  be  more  circumspect  than  we  are, 
if  men  were  able  mutually  to  search  each  other's 
hearts  ?  How  often  does  a  man  chansre  his  course 
of  conduct,  when  he  discovers,  accidentally,  that  his 
neighbor  knows  what  he  is  doing. 

But  it  is  not  an  imperfect  fellow-man,  it  is  not  a 
perfect  angel,  ^vho  besets  us  behind  and  l)efore,  and 
is  acquainted  with  all  our  ways.  It  is  the  immacu- 
late God  himself  It  is  He  before  whom  archano-els 
veil  their  faces,  and  the  burning  seraphim  cry, 
"  Holy."     It  is  He,  in  whose  sight  the  pure  cerulean 


72         god's    EXnAUSTIVE   KJSrOWLEDGE    OF   MAN. 

heavens  are  not  clean,  and  whose  eyes  are  a  flame 
of  fire  devouring  all  iniquity.  AVe  are  beheld,  in 
all  this  process  of  sin,  be  it  blind  or  be  it  intelli- 
gent, by  infinite  Purity.  AVe  are  not,  therefore,  to 
suppose  that  God  contemplates  this  our  life  of  sin 
with  the  dull  indifference  of  an  Epicurean  deity ; 
that  He  looks  into  our  souls,  all  this  while,  from 
mere  curiosity,  and  with  no  moral  emotion  towards 
us.  The  God  who  knows  us  altos-ether  is  the 
Holy  One  of  Israel,  whose  ^vratli  is  both  real,  and 
revealed,  ao;ainst  all  unrig-hteousness. 

If,  therefore,  we  connect  the  holy  natiu'e  and 
pure  essence  of  God  with  all  this  unceasing  and 
unerring  inspection  of  the  human  soul,  does  not  the 
truth  which  we  have  been  considering  speak  with 
a  bolder  emphasis,  and  acquire  an  additional  power 
to  impress  and  solemnize  the  mind  ?  When  we 
realize  that  the  Being  w^ho  is  watching  us  at  every 
instant,  and  in  every  act  and  element  of  our  exist- 
ence, is  the  very  same  Being  who  revealed  himself 
amidst  the  lightenings  of  Sinai  as  hating  sin  and 
not  clearing  the  thoughtless  guilty,  do  not  our  pros- 
pects at  the  bar  of  justice  look  dark  and  fearful  ? 
For,  who  of  the  race  of  man  is  holy  enough  to  stand 
such  an  inspection  ?  Who  of  the  sons  of  men  will 
2)rove  pure  in  such  a  furnace  ? 

Are  we  not,  then,  brought  by  this  truth  close  up 
to  the  central  doctrine  of  Christianity,  and  made  to 
see  our  need  of  the  atonement  and  rio;hteousness  of 
the  lledeemer  ?     How  can  we  endure  such  a  scru- 


god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man.      73 

tiny  as  God  is  instituting  into  our  cliaracter  and 
conduct  ?  What  can  we  say,  in  the  day  of  reckon- 
ino",  when  the  Searcher  of  hearts  shall  make  known 
to  us  all  that  He  knows  of  us  ?  What  can  we  do, 
in  that  day  which  shall  reveal  the  thoughts  and 
the  estimates  of  the  Holy  One  respecting  us? 

It  is  perfectly  plain,  from  the  elevated  central 
point  of  view  where  we  now  stand,  and  in  the  focal 
light  in  which  we  now  see,  that  no  man  can  he  jus- 
tified before  God  upon  the  ground  of  personal  char- 
acter; for  that  cliaracter,  when  subjected  to  God's 
exhaustive  scrutiny,  withers  and  shrinks  away.  A 
man  may  possil)ly  ])e  just  l)efore  his  neighbor,  or 
his  friend,  or  society,  or  human  laws,  but  he  is  mis- 
erably selfdeceived  who  supposes  that  his  heart 
will  appear  righteous  under  such  a  scrutiny,  and  in 
such  a  Presence  as  we  have  been  considering.^ 
However  it  may  be  before  other  tribunals,  the  apos- 
tle is  correct  when  he  asserts  that  "  every  mouth 
must  be  stopped,  and  the  whole  world  plead  guilty 

*  "  It  is  easy," — says  one  of  the  before  our  eyes,  not  acoonlinjj;  to 
keenest  and  most  incisive  of  the-  tlie  inadequate  imaginations  of 
ologians, — "  fur  any  one  in  tlie  our  minds,  but  according  to 
cloisters  of  the  schools  to  indulge  the  descrii)tions  given  of  him  in 
liiniself  in  idle  specidations  on  the  Scriptures,  which  represent 
the  merit  of  works  to  justify  men  ;  him  as  one  whose  refulgence 
but  when  he  comes  i/z^WAc  ;>/T.*-  eclipses  the  stars,  whose  pui'iry 
ence  of  God,  he  must  liid'farewell  nuikcs  all  things  appear  polluted, 
to  these  amusements,  for  there  and  who  scarclies  the  inmost  soul 
the  iiusiness  is  transacted  with  of  his  creatures, — let  us  so  con- 
seriousness.  To  this  ])oint  must  ceive  of  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth, 
our  attention  be  directed,  if  we  and  every  one  must  i)resent  him- 
wish  to  make  any  useful  inquiry  s«lf  as  a  criminal  before  Him,  ancj 
concerning  true  righteousness:  voluntarily  prostrate  and  humble 
IIow  we  can  answer  the  celextial  himself  in  deep  solicit\ide  cou- 
Jiuhje  wiien  he  shall  call  us  to  an  cerning  his  absolution." 
account?    Let  us  place  that  Judge  (Jakvin:    Institutes,  iii.  12. 


74         GOiVs    EXHAUSTIVE    KNOWLEDGE    OF   MAN. 

before  God."  Before  the  Searcher  of  hearts,  all 
mankind  must  appeal  to  mere  and  sovereign  mercy. 
Justice,  in  this  reference,  is  out  of  the  question. 

Now,  in  this  condition  of  things,  God  so  loved 
the  world  that  He  gave  His  only-begotten  Son,  that 
whosoever  believeth  in  Him  might  not  perish,  but 
have  everlasting  life.  The  Divine  mercy  has  been 
manifested  in  a  mode  that  does  not  permit  even  the 
guiltiest  to  doubt  its  reality,  its  sufficiency,  or  its 
sincerity.  The  argument  is  this.  "  If  wlien  we 
were  yet  sinners,"  and  hiowri  to  he  such,  in  the  per- 
fect and  exhaustive  manner  that  has  been  described, 
"  Christ  died  for  us,  much  more,  being  now  justified 
by  His  blood,  shall  ^ve  be  saved  from  wrath  through 
Him."  ApprojDriating  this  atonement  which  the 
Searcher  of  hearts  has  Himself  provided  for  this  very 
exigency,  and  which  He  knows  to  be  thoroughly 
adequate,  no  man,  however  guilty,  need  fear  the 
most  complete  disclosures  which  the  Divine  Omnis- 
cience will  have  to  make  of  human  character  in  the 
day  of  doom.  If  the  guilt  is  "  infinite  upon  infinite," 
so  is  the  sacrifice  of  the  God-man.  Who  is  he  that 
condemneth  ?  it  is  the  Son  of  God  that  died  for  sin. 
Who  shall  lay  anything  to  God's  elect  ?  it  is  God 
that  justifieth.  And  as  God  shall,  in  the  last  day, 
summon  up  from  the  deep  places  of  our  souls  all 
of  our  sins,  and  bring  us  to  a  strict  account  for  every- 
thing, even  to  the  idle  words  that  we  have  spoken, 
we  can  look  Him  full  in  the  eye,  without  a  thought 
of  fear,  and  with  love  unutterable,  if  we  are  really 


god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man.      75 

relying  upon  tlie  atoning  sacrifice  of  Christ  for  jus- 
tification. Eveu  in  that  awful  Presence,  and  under 
that  Oinniscieut  scrutiny,  "  tliere  is  no  condemnation 
to  them  that  are  in  Christ  Jesus." 

The  great  lesson,  then,  taught  by  the  text  and 
its  unfolding,  is  the  importance  of  attaining  self- 
knowledge  here  upon  earth,  and  ivhile  there  remaineth 
a  sacrifice  for  sins.  The  duty  and  wisdom  of  every 
man  is,  to  anticipate  the  revelations  of  the  judgment 
day ;  to  find  out  the  sin  of  his  soul,  while  it  is  an 
accepted  time  and  a  day  of  salvation.  For  we  have 
seen  that  this  self-insj^ection  cannot  ultimately  be 
escaped.  Man  was  made  to  know  himself,  and  he 
must  sooner  or  later  come  to  it.  Self-knowleda:e  is 
as  certain,  in  the  end,  as  death.  The  utmost  that 
can  be  done,  is  to  postpone  it  for  a  few  days,  or 
years.  The  article  of  death  and  the  exchange  of 
worlds  will  pour  it  all  in,  like  a  deluge,  upon  every 
man,  whether  he  will  or  not.  And  he  who  does 
not  ^vake  up  to  a  kuo^vledge  of  his  heart,  until  he 
enters  eternity,  wakes  up  not  to  pardon  but  to 
despair. 

The  simple  question,  then,  which  meets  us  is : 
Wilt  thou  know  thyself  here  and  noiv,  that  thou 
mayest  accept  and  feel  God's  pity  in  Christ's  blood, 
or  wilt  tli<ni  keep  within  the  screen,  and  not  kno^v 
thyself  until  1>eyond  the  grave,  and  then  feel  God's 
judicial  Avrath  ?  The  self-knowledge,  remember, 
must  come  in  the  one  way  or  the  other.  It  is  a  simple 
question  of  time  ;  a  simple  question  whether  it  shall 


76      god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  mak. 

come  here  in  this  world,  where  the  blood  of  Christ 
"  freely  flows,"  or  in  the  future  world,  where  "  there 
remainetli  no  more  sacrifice  for  sin."  Turn  the  mat- 
ter as  we  will,  this  is  the  sum  and  substance, — a 
sinful  man  must  either  come  to  a  thorouo-h  self- 
knowledge,  with  a  heai-ty  repentance  and  a  joyful 
pardon,  in  this  life  ;  or  he  must  come  to  a  thorough 
self-knowledge,  w^ith  a  total  despair  and  an  eternal 
damnation,  in  the  other.  God  is  not  mocked.  God's 
great  pity  in  the  blood  of  Christ  must  not  be  trifled 
with.  He  who  refuses,  or  neglects,  to  institute  that 
self-examination  which  leads  to  the  sense  of  sin, 
and  the  felt  need  of  Christ's  work,  by  this  very  flict 
proves  that  he  does  not  desire  to  know  his  own 
heart,  and  tliat  he  has  no  wish  to  repent  of  sin. 
But  he  wdio  will  not  even  look  at  his  sin, — what 
does  not  he  deserve  from  that  Being  who  poured 
out  His  own  blood  for  it  ?  He  who  refuses  even  to 
open  his  eyes  upon  that  bleeding  Laml:)  of  God,— 
what  must  not  he  expect  from  the  Lion  of  the  tribe 
of  Judah,  in  the  day  of  judgment  ?  He  who  by  a 
life  of  apathy,  and  indifference  to  sin,  puts  himself 
out  of  all  relations  to  the  Divine  pity, — what  must 
he  experience  in  eternity,  but  the  operations  of  stark, 
unmitigated  law? 

Find  out  your  sin,  then.  God  will  forgive  all  that 
is  found.  Though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall 
be  as  white  as  snow.  The  great  God  delights  to 
forgive,  and  is  waiting  to  forgive.  But,  sin  must 
he  seen  hy  the  si/iner,  hefore  it  can  he  pardoned  hy 


god's  exhaustive  knowledge  of  man.      77 

the  Judge.  If  you  refuse  at  this  point ;  if  you  hide 
yourself  from  yourself;  if  you  preclude  all  feeling 
and  conviction  upon  the  subject  of  sin,  by  i-emain- 
ing  ignorant  of  it ;  if  you  continue  to  live  an  easy, 
thoughtless  life  in  sin,  then  you  cannot  be  forgiven, 
and  the  measure  of  God's  love  with  which  He  would 
have  blessed  you,  had  you  searched  yourself  and 
repented,  will  be  the  measure  of  God's  righteous 
wrath  with  which  He  will  search  you,  and  condemn 
you,  because  you  have  not. 


ALL  MANKIND  GUILTY;  OR,  EVERT  MAN  KNOWS  MORE  THAN 
HE  PRACTISES. 


Romans  i.  24. — "  "When  they  knew  God,  they  glorified  him  not  as  God." 


The  idea  of  God  is  the  most  important  and  com- 
prehensive of  all  the  ideas  of  which  the  human 
mind  is  possessed.     It  is  the  foundation  of  religion  ; 

of  all  rio;ht  doctrine,  and  all  rio-ht  conduct.     A  cor- 
es '  o 

rect  intuition  of  it  leads  to  correct  religious  theories 
and  practice ;  while  any  erroneous  or  defective  view 
of  the  Supreme  Being  will  pervade  the  whole  pro- 
vince of  religion,  and  exert  a  most  pernicious  in- 
fluence upon  the  entire  character  and  conduct  of 
men. 

In  proof  of  this,  we  have  only  to  turn  to  the  open- 
ing chapters  of  St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Romans. 
Here  we  find  a  profound  and  accurate  account  of 
the  process  by  which  human  nature  becomes  corrupt, 
and  I'uns  its  downward  career  of  unl)elief,  vice,  and 
sensuality.  The  apostle  traces  back,  the  horrible 
depravity  of  the  heathen  world,  w- hich  he  depicts 
with  a  pen  as  sharp  as  that  of  Juvenal,  but  with 
none  of  JuvenaFs  bitterness  and  vitriolic  sarcasip- 


ALL    MANKIND    GUILTY.  79 

to  a  distorted  and  false  conception  of  the  being  and 
attributes  of  God.  He  does  not,  for  an  instant,  con- 
cede that  this  distorted  and  false  conception  is 
founded  in  the  oris-inal  structure  and  constitution  of 
the  human  soul,  and  that  this  moral  io-norance  is 
necessary  and  inevitable.  This  mutilated  idea  of 
the  Supreme  Being  was  not  inlaid  in  the  rational 
creature  on  the  morning  of  creation,  when  God  said, 
"Let  us  make  man  in  our  image,  after  our  likeness." 
On  the  contrary,  the  apostle  affii'ms  that  the  Crea- 
tor originally  gave  all  mankind,  in  the  moral  cqn- 
stitution  of  a  rational  soul  and  in  the  works  of  cre- 
ation and  providence,  the  media  to  a  correct  idea  of 
Himself,  and  asserts,  by  implication,  that  if  they  had 
always  employed  these  media  they  would  have 
always  possessed  this  idea.  "The  wrath  of  God," 
he  says,  "  is  revealed  from  heaven  against  all  un- 
godliness and  unrighteousness  of  men  who  hold  the 
truth  in  unrighteousness;  because  that  wdiich  may 
l)e  known  of  God  is  manifest  in  them,  for  God  hath 
shewed  it  unto  them.  F'or  the  invisible  things  of 
him,  even  his  eternal  power  and  Godhead,  are  clear- 
ly seen  from  the  creation  of  the  woi'ld,  being  under- 
stood by  the  things  that  are  made,  so  that  they  are 
without  excuse  ;  because  that  when  they  l;/iew  God, 
they  glorified  him  not  as  God"  (Rom.  i.  18-21). 
From  this,  it  appears  that  the  mind  of  man  has  not 
kept  whatnvas  committed  to  its  charge.  It  has  not 
employed  the  moral  instrumentalities,  nor  elicited 
the  moral  ideas,  with  which  it  has  been  furnished. 


80  ALL    MANKIND    GUILTY. 

And,  notice  that  the  apostle  does  not  confine  this 
statement  to  those  who  live  within  the  pale  of  Rev- 
elation. His  description  is  unlimited  and  universal. 
The  affirmation  of  the  text,  that  "  when  man  knew 
God  he  glorified  him  not  as  God,"  applies  to  the 
Gentile  as  well  as  to  the  Jew.  Nay,  the  primary 
reference  of  these  statements  was  to  the  pagan 
world.  It  was  respecting  the  millions  of  idolaters 
in  cultivated  Greece  and  Rome,  and  the  millions  of 
idolaters  in  barbarous  India  and  China, — it  was  re- 
specting the  whole  world  lying  in  wickedness,  that 
St.  Paul  remarked :  "  The  invisible  things  of  God, 
even  his  eternal  power  and  Godhead,  are  clearly 
seen  from  the  creation  of  t]ie  world  down  to  the 
present^ moment,  being  understood  by  the  things 
that  are  made ;  so  that  tJiey  are  without  excuse.'''' 

When  Napoleon  was  returning  from  his  cam- 
paign in  Egypt  and  Syria,  he  was  seated  one  night 
upon  the  deck  of  the  vessel,  under  the  open  canopy 
of  the  heavens,  surrounded  by  his  captains  and  gen- 
erals. Tlie  conversation  had  taken  a  skeptical  direc- 
tion, and  most  of  the  party  had  combated  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Divine  existence.  Napoleon  had  sat 
silent  and  musing,  apparently  taking  no  interest  in 
the  discussion,  when  suddenly  raising  his  hand,  and 
pointing  at  the  crystalline  firmament  crowded  with 
its  mildly  shining  planets  and  its  keen  glittering 
stars,  he  broke  out,  in  those  startling  tones  that  so 
often  electrified  a  million  of  men  :  "  Gentlemen,  who 
made  all  that  ? "     The  eternal  power  and  Godhead 


ALL    MANKIND    GUILTY.  81 

of  the  Creator  are  impressed  by  the  things  that  are 
made,  and  these  words  of  Napoleon  to  his  atheistic 
captains  silenced  them.  And  the  same  impression 
is  made  the  world  over.  Go  to-day  into  the  heart 
of  Africa,  or  into  the  centre  of  New  IloUaml ; 
select  the  most  imbruted  pagan  that  can  be  found  ; 
take  him  out  under  a  clear  star-lit  heaven  and  ask 
him  who  made  all  that,  and  the  idea  of  a  Superior 
Being, — superior  to  all  his  fetishes  and  idols, — pos- 
sessing eternal  po\ver  and  supremacy  (S-etdr-zyg),  im- 
mediately emerges  in  his  consciousness.  The  in- 
stant the  missionary  takes  this  lustful  idolater  away 
from  the  circle  of  his  idols,  and  brino-s  him  face  to 
face  with  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  as  Napoleon 
brought  his  caj)tains,  the  constitutional  idea  dawns 
again,  and  the  pagan  trembles  before  the  unseen 
Power.^ 

'  The  early  Fathers,  in  their  who  is  regarded  as  the  wisest 
defence  of  tlie  Cliristian  doctrine  pliilosoplier  of  them  all,  phiiiily 
of  one  God,  against  the  ohjections  and  openly  defends  the  do(-trino 
of  the  pagan  advocate  of  the  pop-  of  a  divine  monarchy,  and  denoiu- 
Tilar  mythologies,  contend  that  inates  the  Su[)reme  lieing,  not 
the  hettor  pagan  writers  them-  ether,  nor  reason,  nor  nature, 
selves  agree  with  the  new  relig-  but,  as  he  is,  God;  and  asserts 
ion,  in  teaching  that  there  is  one  that  l)y  him  this  perfect  and  ad- 
Supreme  Being.  Lactantius  miralde  world  was  made.  And 
(Institiitiones  i.  5),  after  (pioting  Cicero  follows  Plato,  frecjnently 
the  Orphic  ])oets,  Hesiod,  Virgil,  confessing  the  Deity,  and  calls 
and  Ovid,  in  proof  that  the  him  the  Supreme  Being,  in  his 
lieathen  poets  taught  the  unity  of  treatise  on  the  Laws."  TEinui,- 
the  Supreme  Deity,  ])roceeds  to  lian  (De  Test.  An.  c.  1  ;  A<lv. 
show  tliat  the  better  i)agan  phi-  Marc.  i.  lU;  Ad.  Soap.  c.  2; 
losophers,  also,  i^gree  with  them  Apol.  c.  IT),  than  whom  no  one 
in  this.  "Aristotle,"  he  says,  of  the  Christian  Fathers  was 
'•although  he  disagrees  with  more  vehemently  opi)Osed  to  the 
Iiimself,  and  says  many  things  ])liiloso]iiiizing  of  the  schools, 
that  are  self-contradictory,  yet  earnestly  cuntends  that  the  doc- 
testilies  that  one  Sujtreme  Mind  trine  of  the  unity  of  God  is  con- 
rules   over    the    world.       Plato,  slitutionul  to   the  human  miutl 


82 


ALL    MANKIND    GULLTY. 


But  it  will  be  objected  that  it  is  a  very  dim,  and 
inadequate  idea  of  the  Deity  that  tlius  rises  in  the 
pagan's  mind,  and  that  therefore  the  apostle's  affir- 
mation that  he  is  "  without  excuse  "  for  beino-  an 
idolater  and  a  sensualist  requires  some  qualification. 
This  imbruted  creature,  says  the  objector,  does  not 
possess   the  metaphysical  conception  of  God  as  a 


"God,"  he  says,  "proves himself 
to  be  God,  and  the  one  only  God, 
by  the  very  tact  that  He  is  known 
to  rtZZ  nations;  for  the  existence 
of  any  otlier  deity  than  He  would 
first  liave  to  be  demonstrated. 
The  God  of  the  Jews  is  tlie  one 
whom  the  souls  of  men  call  tlieir 
God.  We  worship  one  God,  the 
one  whom  ye  all  naturally  know, 
at  whose  lightnings  and  thunders 
ye  tremble,  at  whose  benetits  ye 
rejoice.  Will  ye  that  we  prove 
the  Divine  existence  by  tlie  wit- 
ness of  the  soul  itself,  which,  al- 
though contined  by  the  prison  of 
the  body,  althougli  circumscribed 
by  bad  training,  although  ener- 
vated by  lusts  and  passions,  al- 
though made  the  servant  of  false 


and  from  thence  it  descended." 
Calvin  (Inst.  i.  10)  seems  to  have 
had  these  statements  in  his  eye, 
in  the  following  remarks:  "In 
almost  all  ages,  religicm  has  been 
generally  corrupted.  It  is  true, 
indeed,  tiiat  the  name  of  one  Su- 
preme God  has  been  universally 
known  and  celebrated.  F'or  those 
who  used  to  worship  a  multitude 
of  deities,  whenever  they  spake 
according  to  the  genuine  sense  of 
nature,  used  simply  the  name  of 
God  in  the  singular  number,  as 
though  they  were  contented  with 
one  God.  And  this  was  wisely 
remarked  by  Justin  Martyr,  who 
for  this  purpose  wrote  a  book 
'  On  the  Monarchy  of  God,'  in 
which  he  demonstrates,  from  nu- 


gods,  yet  when  it  recovers  itself    nierous  testimonies,  that  the  uni- 


as  from  a  surfeit,  as  from  a  slum- 
ber, as  from  some  infirmity,  and 
is  in  its  proper  condition  of  soimd- 
ness,  calls  God  by  this  name 
only,  because  it  is  the  proper 
name  of  the  true  God.  '  Groat 
God,'  'good  God,'  and  'God 
grant'  [deas,  not  dii],  are  words 
in  every  mouth.  The  soul  also 
witnesses  that  He  is  its  judge, 
when  it  says,  '  God  sees,'  •  I  com- 
mend to  God,'  '  God  shall  recom- 
pense me.'  0  testimony  of  a  soul 
naturally  Christian  [i.  e.,  mono- 
theistic]!  Finally,  in  pronounc- 
ing these  words,  it  looks  not  to 
the  Roman  capitol,  but  to  heav- 
en;  for  it  knows  the  dvvelling- 
place  of  the  true  God  :  from  Him 


ty  of  God  is  a  principle  univer- 
sally impressed  on  the  hearts  of 
men.  Teitullian  (Deldololutria) 
also  proves  the  same  ])oint,  from 
the  common  phraseology.  -But 
since  all  men,  without  exception, 
have  become  vain  in  their  under- 
standings, all  their  natural  per- 
ception of  the  Divine  Unity  has 
only  served  to  render  them  inex- 
cusable." In  consonance  with 
these  views,  the  Presbyterian 
Confession  of  Faith  (ch.  i.)  af- 
firms that  "  the  light  of  nature, 
and  the  works  of  creation  and 
])rovidence,  do  so  far  manifest 
the  goodness,  wisdom,  and  jjovver 
of  God,  as  to  leave  men  inexcusa- 
ble." 


ALL    MANKIND    GUILTY.  83 

Spirit,  and  of  all  his  various  attributes  and  qualities, 
like  the  dweller  in  Christendom.  How  then  can  he 
be  brought  in  guilty  before  the  same  eternal  bar, 
and  be  condemned  to  the  same  eternal  punishment, 
with  the  nominal  Christian  ?  The  answer  is  plain, 
and  decisive,  and  derivable  out  of  the  apostle's  own 
statements.  In  order  to  establish  the  guiltiness  of 
a  rational  creature  before  the  bar  of  justice,  it  is  not 
necessary  to  show  that  he  has  lived  in  the  seventh 
heavens,  and  under  a  blaze  of  moral  intelligence 
like  that  of  the  archangel  Grabriel.  It  is  only  nec- 
essary to  show  that  he  has  enjoyed  so)7ie  degree 
of  moral  light,  and  that  he  lias  not  lived  up  to  it. 
Any  creature  who  knows  more  than  he  practises  is 
a  guilty  creature.  If  tbe  light  in  the  pagan's  intel- 
lect concern ino;  God  and  the  moral  law,  small 
though  if^be,  is  yet  actually  in  advance  of  the  incli- 
nation and  affections  of  his  heart  and  the  actions  of  his 
life,  he  deserv^es  to  be  punished,  like  any  and  every 
other  creature,  under  the  Divine  government,  of 
whom  the  same  thing  is  true.  Grades  of  knowl- 
edge vary  indefinitely.  No  two  men  upon  the 
planet,  no  two  men  in  Chi-istendom,  possess  })recise- 
ly  the  same  degree  of  moral  intelligence.  There 
are  men  walking  the  streets  of  this  city  to-day,  un- 
der the  full  light  of  the  Christian  revelation,  whose 
notions  vespecting  God  and  law  ai'e  exceedingly 
dim  and  inadequate;  and  there  are  others  whose 
views  are  clear  and  correct  in  a  high  degi-ee.  But 
there  is  not  a  i^eison  in  this  city,  young  or  old,  rich 


84  ALL    MANKI^fD    GUILTY. 

or  poor,  ignoi'ant  or  cultivated,  in  the  purlieus  of 
vice  or  the  saloons  of  wealth,  whose  knowledge  of 
God  is  not  in   advance  of  his  own  character  and 
conduct.     Every  nnan,  whatever  be  the  grade  of 
his  intelligence,  knows  more  than  he  puts  in  prac- 
tice.    Ask  the  young  thief,   in   the   subterranean 
haunts  of  vice  and  crime,  if  he  does  not  know  that 
it  is  wicked  to  steal,  and  if  he  renders  an  honest 
answer,  it  is  in  the  affirmative.     Ask  the  most  be- 
sotted soul,  immersed  and  petrified  in  sensuality,  if 
]iis  course  of  life  upon  earth  has  been  in  accordance 
with  his  own  knowledge  and  conviction  of  what  is 
right,  and  required  by  his  Maker,  and  he  will  an- 
swer No,  if  he  answers  truly.    The  grade  of  knowl- 
edge in  the  Christian  land  is  almost  infinitely  var- 
ious ;  but  in  every  instance  the  amount  of  knowledge 
is  greater  than  the  amount  of  virtue.     Whether  he 
knows  little  or  much,  the  man  knows  more  than  he 
performs  ;  and  tlierefore  his  mouth  must  be  stopped 
in  the  judgment,  and  he  must  plead  guilty  before 
God.     Pie  will  not  be  condemned  for  not  possessing 
that  ethereal  vision  of  God  possessed  by  the  sera- 
phim ;  but  he  will  be  condemned  because  his  per- 
ception of  the  holiness  and  the  holy  j'equirements 
of  God  was  sufficient,  at  any  moment,  to  rebuke  his 
disregard  of  them  ;  because  when  he  knew  God  in 
some  degree,  he  glorified  him  not  as  God  up  to  that 
degree. 

And  this  principle  will  be  applied  to  the  pagan 
world.     It  is  so  applied  by  the  apostle  Paul.     He 


ALL    MANKIND    GUILTY.  85 

liiinself  concedes  that  tlie  Gentile  has  not  enjoyed 
all  the  advantages  of  the  Jew,  and  argues  that  the 
ungodly  Jew  will  be  visited  with  a  more  severe 
])Uiiishinent  than  the  ungodly  Gentile.  But  he  ex- 
l)ressly  affirms  that  the  pagan  is  tmder  law,  and 
l/iows  that  he  is ;  that  he  shows  the  work  of  the 
law  that  is  written  on  the  heart,  in  the  operations 
of  an  accusing  and  condemning  conscience.  But 
the  knowledge  of  law  involves  the  knowledge  of 
(rod  in  an  equal  degree.  Who  can  feel  himself 
amenal)le  to  a  moral  law,  without  at  the  same  time 
thinking  of  its  Author  ?  The  law  and  the  Lawgiver 
are  inseparable.  The  one  is  the  mirror  and  index  of 
the  otlier.  If  the  eye  opens  dimly  upon  the  command 
me!it,  it  opens  dimly  upon  the  Sovereign ;  if  it  per- 
ceives etei-nal  right  and  law  with  clear  and  celestial 
vision,  it  then  looks  directly  into  the  face  of  God. 
Law  and  God  are  correlative  to  each  otlier  ;  and  just 
so  far,  consequently,  as  the  heathen  understands 
the  law  that  is  written  on  the  heart  does  he  appre- 
hend the  Being  who  sitteth  upon  the  circle  of  the 
heavens,  and  who  impinges  Himself  upon  the  con- 
sciousness of  men.  This  being  so,  it  is  plain  that 
we  can  confront  the  ungodly  pagan  with  the  same 
statements  with  which  Ave  confront  the  ungodly 
nominal  Christian.  We  can  tell  him  with  positive- 
ness,  wherever  we  find  him,  be  it  u2:)on  the  burning 
sands  of  Africa  or  in  the  frozen  home  of  the  Esqui- 
maux, that  he  knows  more  than  he  puts  in  practice. 
We  will  concede  to  him  that  the  quantum  of  his 


86  ALL    MANKIND    GUILTY 

moral  knowledge  is  very  stinted  and  meagre ;  but 
in  the  same  breath  we  will  remind  him  that  small 
as  it  is,  he  has  not  lived  up  to  it ;  that  he  too  has 
"  come  short "  ;  that  he  too,  knowing  God  in  the 
dimmest,  faintest  degree,  has  yet  not  glorified  him 
as  God  in  the  slightest,  faintest  manner.  The  Bible 
sends  the  ungodly  and  licentious  pagan  to  hell,  upon 
the  same  principle  that  it  sends  the  ungodly  and 
licentious  nominal  Christian.  It  is  the  principle 
enunciated  l)y  our  Lord  Chiist,  the  judge  of  quick 
and  dead,  when  he  says,  "  He  who  knew  his  mas- 
ter's will  [clearly],  and  did  it  not,  shall  be  beaten 
with  many  stripes  ;  and  he  Avho  knew  not  his  mas- 
ter's will  [clearly,  but  knew  it  dimly,]  and  did  it 
not,  shall  be  beaten  with  few  stripes."  It  is  the 
just  principle  enunciated  by  St.  Paul,  that  "  as 
many  as  have  sinned  without  [written]  law  shall 
also  ijerislh  without  [written]  law."^     And  this  is 

*  The  word  a-o^owTre/,  in  Rom.  ion."  If  man  liad  been  true  to 
ii.  12,  is  opposed  to  the  auTTjpla  all  the  principles  and  precepts  of 
spoken  of  in  Rom.  i.  16,  and  n.atural  religion,  it  would  indeed 
therefore  signifies  eternal  perdi-  be  religion  enoiigh  for  him.  Bnt 
tion,  as  that  signifies  eteriinl  sal-  lie  has  not  been  tluis  true.  The 
vation. — -Those  theorists  who  re-  entire  list  of  vices  and  sins  recit- 
ject  revealed  religion,  and  remand  ed.  by  St.  Paul,  in  the  first  chap- 
man back  to  the  first  principles  ter  of  Romans,  is  as  contrary  to 
of  ethics  and  morality  as  the  only  natural  religion,  as  it  is  to  re- 
religion  tliat  he  needs,  send  him  vealed.  And  it  is  precisely  be- 
to  a  tribunal  that  damns  him.  cau-;e  the  pagan  world  has  not 
"Tell  me,"  says  St.  Paul,  ''ye  obeyed  the  principles  of  natural 
that  desire  to  be  under  the  law,  religion,  and  is  under  a  curse  and 
do  ye  not  hear  the  law?  Thelaw  a  bondage  therefor,  that  it  is  in 
is  not  of  faith,  but  the  man  that  perishing  need  of  the  ti-uths  of  re- 
doeth  thein  shall  live  by  them,  vealed  religion.  Little  do  those 
Circumcision  verily  profiteth  if-  know  what  they  are  saying,  when 
i\iO\i  Iceep  X\\Q  law;  but  if  thou  they  propose  to  find  a  salvation 
be  a  breaker  of  tlie  law,  thy  cir-  for  the  pagan  in  the  mere  light 
cumcisioa  is  made  uucircumcis-  of  natural  reason  and  conscience. 


ALL    MAXKOfD    GUILTY.  87 

I'iglit  and  righteous ;  and  let  all  tlie  universe  say. 
Amen. 

The  doctrine  taught  in  the  text,  that  no  human 
creature,  in  any  country  or  grade  of  civilization,  has 
ever  o-loriiied  God  to  tlie  extent  of  his  knowledc^e 
of  God,  is  very  fertile  in  solemn  and  startling  infer- 
ences, to  some  of  which  we  now  invite  attention. 

1.  In  the  first  phice,  it  follows  from  this  affirma- 
tion of  the  apostle  Paul,  that  the  entire  heathen 
ivorld  is  in  a  state  of  condemnation  and  perdition. 
lie  himself  draws  this  inference,  in  saying  that  in 
tlie  judgment  "  every  mouth  must  be  stopped,  and 
the  lohole  world  become  guilty  before  God." 

The  present  and  future  condition  of  the  heathen 
world  is  a  subject  that  has  always  enlisted  the  in- 
terest of  two  very  diflfei-ent  classes  of  men.  Th.^ 
Church  of  God  has  pondered,  and  labored,  and 
prayed  over  this  subject,  and  will  continue  to  do  so 
until  the  millennium.  And  the  disbeliever  in  Reve- 
lation has  also  turned  his  mind  to  the  consideration 
of  this  Ijlack  mass  of  ignorance  and  misery,  which 
welters  upon  the  globe  like  a  chaotic  ocean;  these 
teeming  millions  of  barbarians  and  savages  who 

Wliat  pn.uan  liaa  ever  realized  tlie  lieatlienisin,    but     a     confession 

I  riitiisof  iiiUiiral  cnnsciLMHse,  ill  his  tliiit    tlie    wiiole    lieatlieii    wnrld 

inward  cliarjicter  and  liis  outward  tiiids  and  feels  itself  to  lie  jruilry 

life  ?     What  i>agan  is  there  in  all  at  the  liar  of  natural  reason   and 

tlie  ir<'nerations  ihat  will  not   be  oonscience?     The  accnsiiii;  voi(  o 

loniid    guilty    before   the  bar  of  witiiin  them  wakes  their  forehod- 

natuial  religion?     What  heathen  ingsand  fearfullookiiig-for  of  Di- 

will  not  ni-ed   an   atonement,  for  vine  judgment,  and  iIk-v  tiideav- 

his  failure  to  live  U|)  even  to    the  or     to     ]»ro|iitiate    the    ott'eiided 

light  of  nature?     Nay,  wiiat  is  Tower  by  their  otferings  and  sao- 

tho   entire   sacrificial    cultus   of  rifices. 


88  ALL    MANKIISTD    GUILTY. 

render  fhe  aspect  of  the  world  so  sad  and  so  dark. 
The  Church,  we  need  not  say,  have  accepted  the  Bib- 
lical theory,  and  have  traced  the  lost  condition  of  the 
pagan  world,  as  the  apostle  Paul  does,  to  their  sin  and 
transgression.  They  have  held  that  every  pagan  is 
a  rational  being,  and  by  virtue  of  this  fact  has 
known  something  of  the  moral  law ;  and  that  to  • 
the  extent  of  the  knowledge  he  has  had,  he  is  as 
guilty  for  the  transgression  of  law,  and  as  really  un- 
der its  condemnation,  as  the  dweller  under  the  light 
of  revelation  and  civilization.  They  have  main- 
tained that  every  human  creature  Las  enjoyed  suffi- 
cient lio-ht.  in  the  working's  of  natural  reason  and 
conscience,  and  in  the  impressions  that  are  made  by 
the  glory  and  the  terror  of  the  natural  world  above 
and  around  him,  to  render  him  guilty  before  the 
.  Everlasting  Judge.  For  this  reason,  the  Church 
has  denied  that  the  pagan  is  an  innocent  creature, 
or  that  he  can  stand  in  the  judgment  before  the 
Searcher  of  hearts.  For  this  reason,  the  Church 
has  believed  the  declaration  of  the  apostle  John, 
that  "the  wliole  world  lieth  in  wickedness"  (1  John 
V.  19),  and  has  endeavored  to  obey  the  command  of 
Him  who  came  to  redeem  pagans  as  much  as  nom- 
inal Christians,  to  go  and  preach  the  gospel  to 
every  creature,  because  every  creature  is  a  lost 
creature. 

But  the  disbeliever  in  Revelation  adopts  the  theory 
of  human  innocency,  and  looks  upon  all  the  wretch- 
edness and  ignorance  of  paganism,  as  he  looks  upon 


ALL   MANKIND    GUILTY.  89 

suffering,  decay,  and  death,  in  the  vegetable  and 
animal  Avorlds.  Temporary  evil  is  the  necessary  con- 
dition, he  asserts,  of  all  finite  existence  ;  and  as  de- 
cay and  death  in  the  vegetable  and  animal  worlds 
only  result  in  a  more  luxuriant  vegetation,  and  an 
increased  multiplication  of  living  creatures,  so  the 
evil  and  woe  of  the  hundreds  of  generations,  and 
the  millions  of  individuals,  during  the  sixty  centu- 
ries that  have  elapsed  since  the  origin  of  man,  will 
all  of  it  minister  to  the  ultimate  and  everlasting 
weal  of  the  entire  race.  There  is  no  need  therefore, 
he  aiSrms,  of  endeavoring  to  save  such  feeble  and 
i^-norant  bein.Q-s  from  judicial  condemnation  and  eter- 
nal  penalty.  Such  finiteness  and  helplessness  can- 
not be  put  into  relations  to  such  an  awful  attribute 
as  the  eternal  nemesis  of  God.  Can  it  be, — he  asks, 
— that  the  millions  upon  millions  that  liave  been 
born,  lived  their  l)rief  hour,  enjoyed  their  little  joys 
and  suffered  their  sharp  sorrows,  and  then  dropped 
into  "  the  dark  backward  and  abysm  of  time,"  have 
really  been  gtillti/  creatures,  and  have  gone  down  to 
an  endless  hell  ? 

But  what  does  all  this  reasoning  and  querying 
imply  ?  Will  the  olgector  really  take  the  position 
and  stand  to  it,  that  the  pagan  man  is  not  a  ration- 
al and  responsible  creature  ?  that  he  does  not  pos- 
sess sufficient  knowledge  of  moral  truth,  to  justify 
his  being  l)rought  to  the  bar  of  judgment?  Will 
he  say  that  the  population  that  knew  enough  to 
build  the  pyramids  did  not  know  enough  to  break 


90  ALL   MANKTN^D    GUILTY. 

the  law  of  God  ?     Will  he  affirm  that  the  civiliza- 
tion of  Babylon  and  Niueveh,  of  Greece  and  Rome, 
did  not  contain  within  it   enoug-h  of  moral  intelli- 
gence  to  constitute  a  foundation  for  rewards  and 
p'lnishmeuts  ?     Will  he  tell  us  that  the  people  of 
Sodom  and  Gomorrah  stood  upon  the  same  plane 
with  the  brutes  that  perish,  and  the  ti'ees  of  the 
field  that  rot  and  die,  having  no  idea  of  God,  know- 
ing nothing  of  the  distinction  between  right  and 
wrong,  and  never  feeling  the  pains  of  an  accusing 
conscience  ?     Will  he  maintain  that  the  populations 
of  India,  in  the   midst  of  whom  one  of  the  most 
subtile   and    ingenious   systems  of  pantheism   has 
sprung  up  with  the  luxuriance  and  involutions  of 
one  of  their  own  jungles,  and  has   enervated  the 
whole  relio-ious  sentiment  of  the  Hindoo  race  as 
opium  has  enervated  their  physical  frame, — will  he 
maintain  that  such  an  untiring  and  persistent  men- 
tal activity  as  this  is  incapable  of  apprehending  the 
first  principles  of  ethics  and  natural  religion,  which, 
in  comparison  with   the  complicated  and  obscure 
ratiocinations  of  Boodhism,  are  clear  as  water,  and 
lucid    as  atmospheric  air?     In   other  connections, 
this  theorist  does  not  speak  in  this  style.     In  other 
connections,  and  for  the  purpose  of  exaggerating 
natural  religion    and  disparaging  revealed,  he  en- 
larges upon  the  dignity  of  man,  of  every  man,  and- 
eulogizes  the  power  of  reason  which  so  exalts  him 
in  the  scale  of  being.     With  Hamlet,  he  dilates  in 
proud  and  swelling  phrase :  "  What  a  piece  of  work 


ALL   MANKIND    GUILTY.  9l 

is  man  !  IIo\y  noble  in  reason  !  liow infinite  in  fac- 
ulties !  in  form  and  moving,  bow  express  and  ad- 
mirable !  in  action  how  like  an  angel!  in  apprehen- 
sion how  like  a  god  !  the  beauty  of  the  world  !  the 
paragon  of  animals  !  "  It  is  from  that  very  class  of 
theorizers  who  deny  that  the  heathen  are  in  danger 
of  eternal  perdition,  and  who  represent  the  whole 
missionaiy  enterprise  as  a  work  of  supererogation, 
that  we  receive  the  most  extravagant  accounts  of 
the  natural  powers  and  gifts  of  man.  Now  if 
these  powers  and  gifts  do  belong  to  human  nature 
by  its  constitution,  they  certainly  lay  a  foundation 
for  responsibility  ;  and  all  such  theorists  must  either 
be  able  to  show  that  the  pagan  man  has  made  a 
right  use  of  them,  and  has  walked  according  to  this 
lavg-e  amount  of  truth  and  reason  with  which,  ac- 
cordin<T^  to  their  own  statement,  he  is  endowed,  or 
else  they  consign  him,  as  St.  Paul  does,  to  "  the 
wrath  of  God  which  is  reveiiled  from  heaven  against 
all  ungodliness,  and  unrighteousness  of  men  who 
luild  the  truth  hi  unrighteousness.^''  If  you  assert  that 
the  pagan  man  has  had  no  talents  at  all  committed 
to  him,  and  can  prove  your  assertion,  and  will  stand 
by  it,  you  are  consistent  in  denying  that  he  can  be 
summoned  to  the  bar  of  God,  and  be  tried  for  eter- 
nal life  or  death.  But  if  you  concede  that  he  has 
had  one  talent,  or  tvvo  talents,  committed  to  his 
chai'ge ;  and  still  more,  if  you  exaggerate  his  gifts 
and  endow  him  with  five  or  ten  talents,  then  it  is 
impossible  for  you  to  save  him  from  the  judgment 


92  ALL   MANKIND    GUILTY. 

to  come,  except  you  can  prove  2i>  perfect  administra- 
tion and  use  of  the  trust.^ 

2.  In  the  second  place,  it  follows  from  the  doc- 
trine of  the  text,  that  the  degraded  and  hrutalized 
population  of  large  cities  is  in  a  state  of  condemna- 
tion and  perdition. 

There  are  heathen  near  our  own  doors  whose  re- 
ligious condition  is  as  sad,  and  hopeless,  as  that  of 
the  heathen  of  Patao-onia  or  New  Zealand.  The 
vice  and  crime  that  nestles  and  riots  in  the  laro-e 
cities  of  Christendom  has  become  a  common  theme, 
and  has  lost  much  of  its  interest  for  the  worldly 
mind  by  losing  its  novelty.  The  manners  and  way 
of  life  of  the  outcast  population  of  London  and 
Paris  have  been  depicted  ])y  the  novelist,  and  wak- 
ened a  momentary  emotion  in  the  readers  of  fiction. 
But  the  reality  is  stern  and  dreadful,  beyond  ima- 
gination or  conception.  There  is  in  the  cess-pools 
of  the  great  capitals  of  Christendom  a  mass  of  hu- 
man creatures  who  are  born,  who  live,  and  who  die, 
in  moral  putrefaction.  Their  existence  is  a  contin- 
ued career  of  sin  and  woe.  Body  and  soul,  mind 
and  heart,  are  given  up  to  earth,  to  sense,  to  cor- 


'  Infidelity  is  constantly  chang-  that  man  is  kindred  to  the  ape, 

ingits  giH)iHid.     In  the  18th  can-  and  within  the  sphere  of  i)agan- 

tury,  the  skeptic  very  generally  isra    does   not    possess   sufficient 

took  the  position  of  Lord  Herbert  moral   intelligence   to  constitute 

of  Oherbury,  and  maintained  that  him  responsible.     Like  Luther's 

the  light  of  reason  is  very  clear,  drunken  beggar  on  horseback,  the 

and  is  adequate  to  all  the  religious  opponent    of   Revelation    swaya 

needs  of  the  soul.     In  the  IDth  from  the  position  that  man  is  a 

centuiy,  he  is  now  passing  to  the  god,  to  the  position  that  lie  is   a 

other  extreme,    and   contending  chimpanzee. 


ALL    MAN^KIND    GUILTY.  93 

niption.  They  emerge  for  a  brief  season  into  the 
light  of  day,  run  their  swift  and  fiery  career  of  sin, 
and  then  disappear.  Dante,  in  that  wonderful  Vis- 
ion which  embodies  so  much  of  true  ethics  and  the- 
ology, represents  the  wrathful  and  gloomy  class  as 
sinking  down  under  the  miry  waters  and  continuing 
to  breathe  in  a  convulsive,  suffocating  manner,  send- 
ing up  bubbles  to  the  surface,  that  mark  the  place 
where  they  are  drawing  out  their  lingering  existence.^ 
(Something  like  tbis,  is  the  wretched  lite  of  a  vicious 
population.  As  we  look  in  upon  the  fermenting 
mass,  the  only  signs  of  life  that  meet  our  view  in- 
dicate that  the  life  is  feverish,  spasmodic,  and  suffo- 
catinsc.  The  bubbles  risino;  to  the  dark  and  turbid 
surface  reveal  that  it  is  a  life  in  death. 

But  this,  too,  is  the  result  of  sin.  Take  the  atoms 
one  by  one  that  constitute  this  mass  of  pollution 
and  misery,  and  you  will  find  that  each  one  of  them 
is  a  self-moving  and  an  unforced  will.  Not  one  of 
these  millions  of  individuals  has  been  necessitated 
by  Almighty  God,  or  by  any  of  God's  arrangements, 
to  do  wrong.  Each  one  of  them  is  a  moral  agent, 
equally  with  you  and  me.  Each  one  of  them  is 
self-w'iHed  and  S6'^-determined  in  sin.  He  does  not 
like  to  retain  religious  truth  in  his  mind,  or  to  obey 
it  in  his  heart.  Go  into  the  lowest  haunt  of  vice 
and  select  out  the  most  imbruted  person  there ; 
bring  to  his  remembrance  that  class  of  truths  with 
which  he  is  already  acquainted  by  virtue  of  his 

•Dante:  Inferno,  vii.  100-130. 
5* 


94  ALL    MANKIND    GUILTY. 

rational  nature,  and  add  to  them  that  other  class  of 
truths  taught  in  Kevelation,  and  you  will  find  that 
he  is  predetermined  against  them.  He  takes  sides, 
with  all  the  depth  and  intensity  of  his  being,  with 
that  sinfulness  which  is  common  to  man,  and  which 
it  is  the  aim  of  both  ethics  and  the  gospel  to  remove. 
This  vicious  and  imbruted  man  loves  the  sin  which 
is  forbidden,  more  than  he  loves  the  holiness  that 
is  commanded.  He  inclines  to  the  sin  which  so 
easily  besets  him,  precisely  as  you  and  I  incline  to 
the  bosom-sin  which  so  easily  besets  us.  We  grant 
that  the  temptations  that  assail  him  are  very  power- 
ful ;  but  are  not  some  of  the  temptations  that  beset 
you  and  me  very  powerful  ?  We  grant  that  this 
wretched  slave  of  vice  and  pollution  cannot  break 
off  his  sins  by  righteousness,  without  the  renewing 
and  assisting  grace  of  God  ;  but  neither  can  you  or 
I.  It  is  the  action  of  his  own  will  that  has  made 
him  a  slave.  He  loves  his  chains  and  his  bondag^e, 
even  as  you  and  I  naturally  love  ours ;  and  this 
proves  that  his  moral  corruption,  though  assuming 
an  outwardly  more  repulsive  form  than  ours,  is  yet 
the  same  thing  in  principle.  It  is  the  rooted 
aversion  of  the  human  heart,  the  utter  disinclina- 
tion of  the  human  will,  towards  the  purity  and 
holiness  of  God  ;  it  is  "  the  carnal  mind  which  is 
enmity  against  God  ;  for  it  is  not  subject  to  the  law 
of  God,  neither  indeed  can  be"  (Rom.  viii.  7). 

But  there  is  no  more  convincing  proof  of  the  po- 
sition, that  the  degraded  creature  of  whom  we  are 


ALL    MANKIND    GUILTY.  95 

speaking  is  a  self-deciding  and  unforced  sinner,  tban 
the  fact  that  he  resists  efforts  to  reclaim  him.  Ask 
these  faithful  and  benevolent  missionaries  who 
go  down  into  these  dens  of  vice  and  pollution,  to 
pour  more  light  into  tlie  mind,  and  to  induce  these 
outcasts  to  leave  their  drunkenness  and  their  de- 
bauchery,— ask  them  if  they  find  that  human  nature 
is  any  different  there  from  what  it  is  elsewhere,  so 
far  as  yielding  to  the  claims  of  God  and  law  is  con- 
cerned. Do  they  tell  you  that  they  are  uniformly 
successful  in  inducinf^  these  sinners  to  leave  their 
sins?  that  they  never  find  any  self-will,  any  de- 
termined opposition  to  the  holy  law  of  purity,  any 
preference  of  a  life  of  licence  with  its  woes  here 
upon  earth  and  hereafter  in  hell,  to  a  life  of  self  de- 
nial with  its  joys  eternal?  On  the  contrary,  they 
testify  that  the  old  maxim  upon  which  so  many 
millions  of  the  human  family  have  acted:  "Enjoy 
the  present  and  jump  the  life  to  come,"  is  the  rule 
for  this  mass  of  population,  of  whom  so  very  few 
can  be  persuaded  to  leave  their  cups  and  their  orgies. 
Like  the  people  of  Israel,  when  expostulated  with 
by  the  prophet  Jeremiah  for  their  idolatry  and  pol- 
lution, the  majoiity  of  the  degraded  population  of 
whom  we  are  speaking,  when  endeavors  have  been 
made  to  reclaim  them,  have  said  to  the  philanthropist 
and  the  missionary  :  "  There  is  no  hope :  no ;  for  I 
have  loved  strangers,  and  after  them  I  will  go  "  (Je;-. 
ii.  25).  There  is  not  a  single  individual  of  tlieiu 
all  who  does  not  love  the  sin  that  is  destroying  liim, 


96  ALL    MANKIIS'D    GUILTY. 

more  than  lie  loves  tlie  holiness  that  would  save 
him.  Notwithstanding  all  the  horrible  accompani- 
ments of  siu, — the  filth,  the  disease,  the  poverty,  the 
sickness,  the  pain  of  both  body  and  mind, — the 
wretched  creature  prefers  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of 
sin  for  a  season,  rather  than  come  out  and  separate 
himself  from  the  unclean  thing,  and  begin  that  holy 
warfare  and  obedience  to  which  his  God  and  his 
Saviour  invite  him.  This,  we  repeat,  proves  that 
the  sin  is  not  forced  upon  this  creature.  For  if  he 
hated  his  sin,  nay  if  he  felt  weary  and  heavy  laden 
in  the  least  deorree  because  of  it,  he  mig-ht  leave  it. 
There  is  a  free  grace,  and  a  proffered  assistance  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,  of  which  he  might  avail  himself  at 
any  moment.  Had  he  the  feeling  of  the  weary  and 
penitent  prodigal,  the  same  father's  house  is  ever 
o]3en  for  his  return ;  and  the  same  father  seeing 
him  on  his  return,  though  still  a  great  way  off, 
would  run  and  fall  upon  his  neck  and  kiss  him. 
But  the  heart  is  hard,  and  the  spirit  is  uttei-ly 
selfish,  and  the  will  is  perverse  and  determined,  and 
therefore  the  natural  knowledge  of  God  and  his  law 
which  this  sinner  possesses  by  his  very  constitution, 
and  the  added  knowledsre  which  his  birth  in  a 
Christian  land  and  the  efforts  of  benevolent  Chris- 
tians have  imparted  to  him,  are  not  strong  enough 
to  overcome  his  inclination,  and  his  preference,  and 
induce  him  to  break  off  his  sins  by  righteousness. 
To  him,  also,  as  well  as  to  every  sin-loving  man, 
these  solemn  words  will  be  spoken  in  the  day  of 


ALL   MANKIND    GUILTY.  9*1 

final  adjudication  :  "The  wrath  of  God  is  revealed 
from  heaven  aoiainst  all  uno-odliness,  and  unrisrht- 
eousness,  of  men  who  hold  down  (xarsx^^v)  the 
truth  in  unrighteousness;  because  that  which  may 
be  known  of  God  is  manifest  within  them  ;  for 
God  hath  shewed  it  unto  them.  For  the  invisible 
things  of  him,  even  his  eternal  power  and  God- 
head, are  clearly  seen  from  the  creation  of  the 
world,  being  understood  by  the  things  that  are 
made;  so  that  they  are  without  excuse,  because 
that  when  they  knew  God  they  glorified  him  not 
as  God." 

3.  In  the  third  and  last  place,  it  follows  from 
this  doctrine  of  the  apostle  Paul,  as  thus  unfolded, 
that  that  portion  of  the  enlightened  and  cultivated 
IJopulation  of  Christian  lands  who  have  not  he- 
lleved  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  repented  of 
sin,  are  in  tlie  deepest  state  of  condemnation  and 
perdition. 

"  Behold  thou  art  called  a  Jew,  and  restest  in  the 
law,  and  makest  thy  boast  of  God,  and  knowest 
his  will,  and  approvest  the  things  that  are  more 
excellent,  being  instructed  out  of  the  law,  and  art 
confident  that  thou  thyself  art  a  guide  of  the  blind, 
a  lij^ht  of  them  which  are  in  darkness  :  an  instruct- 
or  of  the  foolish,  a  teacher  of  babes :  which  hast  the 
form  of  knowledge,  and  of  the  truth,  in  the  law : 
thou  therefore  that  teachest  another  teachest  thou 
not  thyself?  thou  that  makest  thy  boast  of  the  law, 
throuixh  breaking  the  law  dishonorest  thou  God  ? " 


98  ALL    MANKIND    GUILTY, 

If  it  be  true  tLat  the  pagan  knows  more  of  God 
and  the  moral  law  than  he  has  ever  put  in  prac* 
tice ;  if  it  be  true  that  the  imbruted  child  of  vice 
and  pollution  knows  more  of  God  and  the  moral 
law  than  he  has  ever  put  in  practice ;  how  much 
more  fearfully  true  is  it  that  the  dweller  in  a  Chris- 
tian home,  the  visitant  of  the  house  of  God,  the 
possessor  of  the  written  Word,  the  listener  to  prayer 
and  oftentimes  the  subject  of  it,  possesses  an  amount 
of  knowledge  respecting  his  origin,  his  duty,  and 
his  destiny,  that  infinitely  outruns  his  character 
and  his  conduct.  If  eternal  punishment  will  come 
down  upon  those  classes  of  mankind  who  know 
but  comparatively  little,  because  they  have  been 
unftiithful  in  that  which  is  least,  surely  eternal 
punishment  will  come  down  upon  that  more  fa- 
vored class  who  know  comparatively  much,  because 
they  have  been  unfaithful  in  that  which  is  much. 
"  If  these  things  are  done  in  the  green  tree,  what 
shall  be  done  in  the  dry  ?  " 

The  great  charge  that  will  rest  against  the  crea- 
ture when  he  stands  before  the  final  bar  will  be, 
that  "  when  he  knew  God,  he  glorified  Him  not  as 
God,"  And  this  will  rest  heaviest  against  those 
whose  knowledge  was  the  clearest.  It  is  a  great 
prerogative  to  be  able  to  know  the  infinite  and 
glorious  Creator ;  but  it  brings  with  it  a  most  sol- 
emn responsibility.  That  blessed  Being,  of  right, 
challenges  the  homage  and  obedience  of  His  crea- 
ture.    What  he  asks  of  the  angel,  that  he  asks  of 


ALL   MANKESTD    GUILTY.  99 

man ;  that  he  should  glorify  God  in  his  body  and 
spirit  which  are  His,  and  should  thereby  enjoy  God 
forever  and  forever.  This  is  the  condemnation  un- 
der which  man,  and  especially  enlightened  and 
cultivated  man,  rests,  that  while  he  knows  God  lie 
neither  glorifies  Him  nor  enjoys  Him.  Our  Re- 
deemer saw  this  with  all  the  clearness  of  the  Divine 
Mind ;  and  to  deliver  the  creature  from  the  dread- 
ful guilt  of  his  self-idolatry,  of  his  disposition  to 
worship  and  love  the  creature  more  than  the  Crea- 
tor, He  became  incarnate,  suffered  and  died.  It  can- 
not be  a  small  crime,  that  necessitated  such  an  ap- 
paratus of  atonement  and  Divine  influences  as  that 
of  Christ  and  His  redemption.  Estimate  the  guilt 
of  coming  short  of  the  glory  of  God,  which  is  the 
same  as  the  guilt  of  idolatry  and  creatui'e-worship, 
by  the  nature  of  the  provision  that  has  been  made 
to  cancel  it.  If  you  do  not  actually  feel  that  this 
crime  is  great,  then  argue  yourself  towards  a  juster 
view,  by  the  consideration  that  it  cost  the  blood  of 
Christ  to  expiate  it.  If  you  do  not  actually  feel 
that  the  guilt  is  great,  then  argue  yourself  towards 
a  juster  view,  by  the  reflection  that  you  have  known 
God  to  be  supremely  great,  supremely  good,  and 
supremely  excellent,  and  yet  you  have  never,  in  a 
single  feeling  of  your  heart,  or  a  single  thought  of 
your  mind,  or  a  single  purpose  of  your  will,  honored 
Him.  It  is  honor,  reverence,  worship,  and  love  that 
He  requires.  These  you  have  never  rendered  ;  and 
there  is  an  infinity  of  guilt  in  the  fact.     That  guilt 


100  ALL    MAl^fKIND    GUILTY. 

will  be  forgiven  for  Christ's  sake,  if  you  ask  for  for- 
giveness. But  if  you  do  not  ask,  then  it  will  stand 
recorded  against  you  for  eternal  ages  :  "  When  he, 
a  rational  and  immortal  creature,  knew  God,  he  glo- 
rified Him  not  as  God." 


SIN  IN  THE  HEART  THE  SOURCE  OP  ERROR  IN  THE  HEAD. 


Romans  i.  28. — "  As  they  did  not  like  to  retain  God  in  their  knowledge,  God 
gave  them  over  to  a  reprobate  mind." 


In  tlie  opening  of  the  most  logical  and  systematic 
treatise  in  tlie  New  Testament,  the  Epistle  to  the 
Romans,  the  apostle  Paul  enters  upon  a  line  of  ar- 
gument to  demonstrate  the  ill-desert  of  every  hu- 
man creature  without  exception.  In  order  to  this, 
he  shows  that  no  excuse  can  be  urged  upon  the 
ground  of  moral  ignorance.  He  explicitly  teaches 
that  the  pagan  knows  that  there  is  one  Supreme 
Clod  (Rom.  i.  20)  ;  that  He  is  a  spirit  (Rom.  i.  23)  ; 
that  He  is  holy  and  sin-hating  (Rora.  i.  18);  that 
He  is  worthy  to  be  worshipped  (Rom.  i.  21, 25) ;  and 
that  men  oiicfht  to  be  thankful  for  His  benefits 
(Rom.  i.  21).  He  affirms  that  the  heathen  knows 
that  an  idol  is  a  lie  (Rom.  i.  25)  ;  that  licentious- 
ness is  a  sin  (Rom.  i.  26,  32)  ;  that  envy,  malice, 
and  deceit  are  wicked  (Rom.  i.  29,  32)  ;  and  that 
those  who  practise  such  sins  deserve  eternal  pun- 
ishment (Rom.  i  32). 

In  these  teachings  and  assertions,  the  apostle  has 


102  SIK   LN^   THE   HEART   THE 

attributed  no  small  amount  and  degree  of  moral 
knowledge  to  man  as  man^ — to  man  outside  of  Rev- 
elation, as  well  as  under  its  shining  light.  The 
question  very  naturally  arises :  How  comes  it  to  pass 
that  this  knowledge  which  Divine  inspiration  pos- 
tulates, and  affirms  to  be  innate  and  constitutional 
to  the  human  mind,  should  become  so  vitiated? 
The  majority  of  mankind  are  idolaters  and  poly- 
theists,  and  have  been  for  thousands  of  years.  Can 
it  be  that  the  truth  that  there  is  only  one  God  is 
native  to  the  human  spirit,  and  that  the  pagan 
^'- hnows''''  this  God?  The  majority  of  men  are 
earthly  and  sensual,  and  have  been  for  thousands  of 
years.  Can  it  be  that  there  is  a  moral  law  written 
upon  their  hearts  forbidding  such  carnality,  and 
enjoining  purity  and  holiness  ? 

Some  theorizers  argue  that  because  the  pagan  man 
has  not  obeyed  the  law,  therefore  he  does  not  know 
the  law ;  and  that  because  he  has  not  revered  and 
worshipped  the  one  Supreme  Deity,  therefore  he 
does  not  possess  the  idea  of  any  such  Being.  They 
look  out  upon  the  heathen  populations  and  see  them 
])ownng  down  to  stocks  and  stones,  and  witness 
their  immersion  in  the  abominations  of  heathenism, 
and  conclude  that  these  millions  of  human  beings 
really  know  no  better,  and  that  therefore  it  is  unjust 
to  hold  them  responsible  for  their  polytheism  and 
their  moral  corruption.  But  wdiy  do  they  confine  this 
species  of  reasoning  to  the  j)agan  world  ?  Why  do 
they  not  bring  it  into  nominal  Christendom,  and  ap- 


SOTJECE    OF    ERROR   IN    THE    HEAD.  103 

ply  it  there  ?  Why  does  not  this  tlieorist  go  into 
the  midst  of  European  civilization,  into  the  heart 
of  London  or  Paris,  and  gauge  the  moral  knowledge 
of  the  sensualist  Ly  the  moral  character  of  the 
sensualist?  Why  does  he  not  tell  us  that  be- 
cause this  civilized  man  acts  no  better,  therefore 
lie  knows  no  better  ?  Why  does  he  not  maintain 
that  because  this  voluptuary  breaks  all  the  com- 
mandments in  the  decalogue,  therefore  he  must  be 
iornorant  of  all  the  commandments  in  the  decaloiiue  ? 
that  because  lie  neither  fears  nor  loves  tlie  one  only 
God,  therefore  he  does  not  know  that  there  is  any 
such  Beinui:  ? 

It  will  never  do  to  estimate  man's  moral  knowl- 
edge by  mfin's  moral  character.  He  knows  more 
than  he  {practises.  And  there  is  not  so  much  dif- 
ference in  this  particular  between  some  men  in 
nominal  Christendom,  and  some  men  in  Heathen- 
dom, as  is  sometimes  imagined.  The  moral  knowl- 
edge of  those  who  lie  in  the  lower  strata  of  Chris- 
tian civilization,  and  those  who  lie  in  the  higher 
strata  of  Paganism,  is  probably  not  so  very  fiir 
apart.  Place  the  imbruted  outcasts  of  our  metro- 
politan population  beside  the  Indian  hunter,  with 
his  belief  in  the  Great  Spirit,  and  his  worship  with- 
out images  or  pictorial  representations ;  ^  beside  the 
stalwart  Mandinnjo  of  the  hhAi  table-lands  of  Cen- 


'  "Tliere  are  no  profane  words  iiijjof  tlie  '  Great  Spirit.'  " — Fok- 
iii  tlie  (Iowa)  Iiuiiaii  latiKnagc  ;  Eir.x  Missionaky  :  May,  1603,  p. 
no  liylit  ur  profane  way  of  speak-     337. 


104;  SES"   IlSr   THE    HEART   THE 

tral  Africa,  with  his  active  and  enterprising  spirit, 
carrying  on  manufactures  and  trade  with  all  the 
keenness  of  any  civilized  worldling;  beside  the  na- 
tive merchants  and  lawyers  of  Calcutta,  who  still 
cling  to  their  ancestral  Boodhism,  or  else  substitute 
French  infidelity  in  its  place ;  place  the  lowest  of 
the  highest  beside  the  highest  of  tlie  lowest,  and  tell 
us  if  the  difference  is  so  very  marked.  Sin,  like  ho- 
liness, is  a  mighty  leveler.  The  "  dislike  to  retain 
God "  in  the  consciousness,  the  aversion  of  the 
heart  towards  the  purity  of  the  moral  law,  vitiates 
the  native  perceptions  alike  in  Christendom  and  Pa- 
ganism. 

The  theory  that  the  pagan  is  possessed  of  such 
an  amount  and  deo-ree  of  moral  knowlediije  as  has 
been  specified  has  awakened  some  apprehension  in 
the  minds  of  some  Christian  theologians,  and  has 
led  them  unintentionally  to  foster  the  opposite  the- 
ory, which,  if  strictly  adhered  to,  would  lifb  off  all 
responsibility  from  the  pagan  woi'ld,  would  bring 
them  in  innocent  at  the  bar  of  God,  and  would  ren- 
der the  whole  enterprise  of  Christian  missions  a 
superfl^uity  and  an  absurdity.  Their  motive  has 
been  good.  They  have  feared  to  attribute  any  de- 
gree of  accurate  knowledge  of  God  and  the  moral 
law,  to  the  pagan  world,  lest  they  should  thereby 
conflict  with  the  doctrine  of  total  depravity.  They 
have  mistakenly  supposed,  that  if  they  should  con- 
cede to  every  man,  by  virtue  of  his  moral  constitu- 
tion, some  correct  apprehensions  of  ethics  and  natu- 


SOUECE   OF   ERROR   IN    THE   HEAD.  105 

ral  religion,  it  would  follow  that  there  is  some  na- 
tive goodness  in  him.  But  light  in  the  intellect  is 
very  different  from  life  in  the  heart.  It  is  one 
tiling  to  know  the  law  of  God,  and  quite  an- 
other thinsc  to  be  conformed  to  it.  Even  if  we 
should  concede  to  the  degraded  pagan,  or  the 
degraded  dweller  in  tlie  haunts  of  vice  in  Chris- 
tian lands,  all  the  intellectual  knowledge  of  God 
and  the  moral  law  that  is  possessed  by  the  ruined 
archangel  himself,  we  should  not  be  adding  a  parti- 
cle to  his  moral  character  or  his  moral  excellence. 
There  is  nothing  of  a  holy  quality  in  the  mere  intel- 
lectual perception  that  there  is  one  Supreme  De- 
ity, and  that  He  has  issued  a  pure  and  holy  law  for 
the  guidance  of  all  rational  beings.  The  mere  doc- 
trine of  the  Divine  Unity  will  save  no  man.  "Thou 
believest,"  says  St.  James,  "that  there  is  one  God; 
thou  doest  well,  the  devils  also  believe  and  tremble." 
Satan  himself  is  a  monotheist,  and  knows  very  clear- 
ly all  the  commandments  of  God;  but  his  heart  and 
will  are  in  demoniacal  antac-onism  with  them.  And 
so  it  is,  only  in  a  lower  degree,  in  the  instance  of 
the  pagan,  and  of  the  natural  man,  in  every  age,  and 
in  every  clime.  He"  knows  more  than  he  practises. 
This  intellectual  perception  therefore,  this  inborn 
constitutional  apprehension,  instead  of  lifting  up 
man  into  a  higher  and  more  favoi'able  position  be- 
fore the  eternal  bar,  casts  him  down  to  perdition. 
If  he  knew  nothing  at  all  of  his  Maker  and  his  duty, 
lie  could  not  be  held  responsible,  and  could  not  be 


106  SEN"   EST   TITE   HEART   THE 

sumraonetl  to  judgment.  As  St.  Paul  affirms : 
"  Where  there  is  no  law  there  is  no  transgression." 
But  if,  wlien  he  knew  God  in  some  degree,  he  glori- 
fied him  not  as  God  to  that  degree ;  and  if,  when 
the  moral  law  was  written  upon  the  heart  he 
went  counter  to  its  requirements,  and  heard  the 
accusing  voice  of  his  own  conscience ;  then  his 
mouth  inust  be  stopped,  and  he  must  become  guilty 
before  his  Judge,  like  any  and  every  other  disobe- 
dient creature. 

It  is  this  serious  and  damning  fact  in  the  history 
of  man  upon  the  globe,  that  St.  Paul  brings  to  view, 
in  the  passage  wliich  we  have  selected  as  the  foun- 
dation of  this  discourse.  He  accounts  for  all  the 
idolatry  and  sensuality,  all  the  darkness  and  vain 
imaginations  of  paganism,  by  referring  to  the  aver- 
sion of  tlie  natural  heart  towards  the  one  only  holy 
God.  "  Men,"  he  says, — these  j;agan  men, — "  did  not 
like  to  retain  God  in  their  knowledge."  The  primary 
difficulty  was  in  their  affections,  and  not  in  their 
■understanrlings.  They  knew  too  much  for  their 
own  comfort  in  sin.  The  contrast  between  the  Di- 
vine purity  that  was  mirrored  in  their  conscience, 
and  the  sinfulness  that  was  wrought  into  their 
heart  and  will,  rendered  this  inborn  constitutional 
idea  of  God  a  very  painful  one.  It  was  a  fire  in 
the  bones.  If  tlie  Psalmist,  a  renewed  man,  yet 
not  entirely  free  from  human  corruption,  could  say: 
"  I  thought  of  God  and  was  troubled,"  much  more 
must  the  totally  depraved  man  of  paganism  be  filled 


60UECE    OF   ERROR   IN   THE    HEAD.  107 

with  terror  when,  in  the  thoughts  of  his  heart,  in 
the  hour  when  the  accusing  conscience  was  at  work, 
he  brought  to  mind  the  one  great  God  of  gods 
whom  he  did  not  glorify,  and  whom  he  had  offend- 
ed. It  was  no  wonder,  therefore,  that  he  did  not 
like  to  retain  the  idea  of  such  a  Being  in  his  con- 
sciousness, and  that  he  adopted  all  possible  expedi- 
ents to  get  rid  of  it.  The  apostle  informs  us  that 
the  pagan  actually  called  in  his  imagination  to  his 
aid,  in  order  to  extirpate,  if  jwssible,  all  his  native 
and  rational  ideas  and  convictions  upon  religious 
subjects.  He  became  vain  in  his  imaginations,  and 
his  foolish  heart  as  a  consequence  was  darkened,  and 
he  changed  the  glory  of  the  incorruptible  God,  the 
spiritual  unity  of  the  Deity,  into  an  image  made 
like  to  corruptible  man,  and  to  birds,  and  four-foot- 
ed beasts,  and  creeping  things  (Rom.  i.  21-23).  He 
invented  idolatry,  and  all  those  "gay  religions  full 
of  pomp  and  gold,"  in  order  to  blunt  the  edge  of 
that  sharp  spiritual  conception  of  God  which  was 
continually  cutting  and  lacerating  his  wicked  and 
sensual  heart.  Hiding  himself  amidst  the  columns  of 
his  idolatrous  temples,  and  under  the  smoke  of  his 
idolatrous  incense,  he  thought  like  Adam  to  escape 
from  the  view  and  inspection  of  that  Intinite  One 
who,  from  the  creation  of  the  world  downward, 
makes  known  to  all  men  his  eternal  po\ver  and  god- 
head ;  who,  as  St.  Paul  taught  the  philosophers  of 
Athens,  is  not  far  from  any  one  of  his  I'ational  crea- 
tures (Acts  xvii.  27)  ;  and  who,  as  the  same  apostle 


108  SIN    EN"   THE   HEAET   THE 

taught  the  pagan  Lycaonians,  though  in  times  past 
he  suffered  all  nations  to  walk  in  their  own  ways, 
yet  left  not  himself  without  witness,  in  that  he  did 
good,  and  gave  them  rain  from  heaven,  and  fruitful 
seasons,  filling  their  hearts  with  food  and  gladness. 
(Acts  xiv.  16,  17). 

The  first  step  in  the  process  of  mutilating  the 
original  idea  of  God,  as  a  unity  and  an  unseen  Spirit, 
is  seen  in  those  pantheistic  religions  which  lie  behind 
all  the  mythologies  of  the  ancient  world,  like  a  nebu- 
lous vapor  out  of  which  the  more  distinct  idols  and 
images  of  paganism  are  struggling.  Here  the  notion 
of  the  Divine  unity  is  still  preserved;  but  the  Di- 
vine personality  and  holiness  are  lost.  God  be- 
comes a  vague  impersonal  Power,  with  no  moral 
qualities,  and  no  religious  attributes  ;  and  it  is  dif- 
ficult to  say  which  is  worst  in  its  moral  influence, 
this  pantheism  which  while  retaining  the  doctiine 
of  the  Divine  unity  yet  denudes  the  Deity  of  all 
that  renders  him  an  ol  »ject  of  either  love  or  reverence, 
or  the  grosser  idolatries  that  succeeded  it.  For  man 
cannot  love,  with  all  his  mind  and  heart  and  soul 
and  strength,  a  vast  impersonal  force  working  blind- 
ly through  infinite  space  and  everlasting  time. 

And  the  second  and  last  stage  in  this  process  of 
vitiating  the  true  idea  of  God  appears  in  that  poly- 
theism in  the  midst  of  which  St.  Paul  lived,  and  la- 
bored, and  preached,  and  died ;  in  that  seductive 
and  beautiful  paganism,  that  classical  idolatry,  which 
still  addresses  the  human  taste  in  such  a  fascinating 


SOUllCE    OF   ERROK    IN    THE   HEAD.  109 

manner,  in  the  Venns  de  Medici,  and  tlie  Apollo 
Belvidere.  The  idea  of  the  unity  of  God  is  now 
mangled  and  cut  up  into  the  "gods  many ''and 
the  "  lords  many,"  into  the  thirty  thousand  divin- 
ities of  the  pagan  pantheon.  This  completes  the 
process.  God  now  gives  his  guilty  creature  over 
to  these  vain  imaginations  of  naturalism,  material- 
ism, and  idolatry,  and  to  an  increasingly  darkening 
mind,  until  in  the  lowest  forms  of  heathenism  he  so 
distorts  and  suppresses  the  con  created  idea  of  the 
Deity  that  some  speculatists  assert  that  it  does  not 
belono;  to  his  constitution,  and  that  his  Maker  never 
endowed  him  with  it.  How  is  the  gold  become 
dim  !    How  is  the  most  fine  gold  changed  ! 

But  it  will  be  objected  that  all  this  lies  in  the 
past.  This  is  the  account  of  a  process  that  has  re- 
quired centuries,  yea  millenniums,  to  bring  about. 
A  hundred  generations  have  been  engaged  in  trans- 
muting the  monotheism  with  which  the  human  race 
started,  into  the  pantheism  and  polytheism  in  which 
the  great  majority  of  it  is  now  involved.  How  do 
you  establish  the  guilt  of  those  at  the  end  of  the 
line?  How  can  you  charge  upon  the  present  gen- 
eration of  pagans  the  same  culpability  that  Paul  im- 
puted to  their  ancestors  eighteen  centuries  ago,  and 
that  Noah  the  preacher  of  righteousness  denounced 
upon  the  antediluvian  pagan  ?  As  the  deteriorat- 
ing process  advances,  does  not  the  guilt  diminish? 
and  now,  in  these  ends  of  the  aores,  and  in  these 
dark  habitations  of  cruelty,  has  not  the  culpability 


110  SIIT   IN   THE   HEAET   THE 

run  down  to  a  minimum,  which  God  in  the  day  of 
judgment  will  "  wink  at  ?  " 

We  answer  No  :  Because  the  structure  of  the  hu 
man  mind  is  precisely  the  same  that  it  was  when 
the  Sodomites  held  down  the  truth  in  unrio^hteous- 
ness,  and  the  Roman  populace  turned  up  their 
thumbs  that  they  might  see  the  last  drops  of  blood 
ebb  slowly  from  the  red  gasli  in  the  dying  gladia- 
tor's side.  Man,  in  his  deepest  degradation,  in  his 
most  hardened  depravity,  is  still  a  rational  intelli- 
gence ;  and  though  he  shouhl  continue  to  sin  on  in- 
definitely, through  cycles  of  time  as  long  as  those 
of  geology,  he  cannot  unmake  himself;  he  cannot 
nnmould  his  immortal  essence, and  absolutely  eradi- 
cate all  his  moral  ideas.  Paganism  itself  has  its 
fluctuations  of  moral  knowledge.  The  early  Roman, 
in  the  days  of  Numa,  was  highly  ethical  in  his 
views  of  the  Deity,  and  his  conceptions  of  moral 
law.  Varro  informs  us  that  for  a  period  of  one  hun- 
dred and  seventy  years  the  Romans  worshipped  their 
gods  without  any  images  ;  ^  and  Sallust  denominates 
these  pristine  Romans  "  religiosissimi  mortales." 
And  how  often  does  the  missionary  discover  a  tribe 
or  a  race,  whose  moral  intelligence  is  higher  than 
that  of  the  average  of  paganism.  Nay,  the  same 
race,  or  tribe,  passes  from  one  phase  of  polytheism 
to  another ;  in  one  instance  exhibiting  many  of  the 
elements  and  truths  of  natural  religion,  and  in  an- 

Plutaech:  Numa,  8;  Augustine:  De  Civitate,  iv.  31. 


SOURCE    OF   EKROR   IN   THE   HEAD.  Ill 

other  almost  entirely  suppressing  them.  These  facts 
prove  that  the  pagan  man  is  under  suj)ervision ; 
that  he  is  under  the  righteous  despotism  of  moral 
ideas  and  convictions;  that  God  is  not  far  from 
him  ;  that  he  lives  and  moves  and  has  his  being  in 
his  Maker;  and  that  God  does  not  leave  himself 
without  witness  in  his  constitutional  structure. 
Therefore  it  is,  that  this  sea  of  rational  intelligence 
thus  surges  and  sways_  in  the  masses  of  paganism  ; 
sometimes  dashing  the  creature  up  the  heights,  and 
sometimes  sending  him  down  into  the  depths. 

But  while  this  subject  has  this  general  applica- 
tion to  mankind  outside  of  Revelation;  while  it 
throws  so  much  light  upon  the  question  of  the 
heathens'  resi)onsibility  and  guilt ;  while  it  tends  to 
deepen  our  interest  in  the  work  of  Christian  missions, 
and  to  stimulate  us  to  obey  our  Redeemer's  command 
to  go  and  preach  the  gospel  to  them,  in  order  to 
save  them  from  the  wrath  of  God  which  abideth 
upon  them  as  it  does  upon  ourselves;  while  this 
subject  has  these  profound  and  far-reaching  appli- 
cations, it  also  presses  with  sharpness  and  energy 
upon  the  case,  and  th:'  position,  of  millions  of  men  in 
Christendom.  A  '  '  >  this  more  particular  aspect 
of  the  theme,  we  .  a.  attention  for  a  moment. 

This  same  process  of  corruption,  and  vitiation  of 
a  correct  knowledge  of  God,  which  we  have  seen  to 
go  on  upon  a  large  scale  in  the  instance  of  the  hea- 
then world,  also  often  goes  on  in  the  instance  of  a 
single  individual  under  the  light  of  Revelation  itself 


112  8IN   IN   THE   HEART   THE 

Have  you  never  known  a  person  to  have  been  well 
educated  in  childhood  and  youth  respecting  the 
character  and  government  of  God,  and  yet  in  mid- 
dle life  and  old  age  to  have  altered  and  corrupted 
all  his  early  and  accurate  apprehensions,  by  the 
gradual  adoption  of  contrary  views  and  sentiments  ? 
In  his  childhood  and  youth,  he  believed  that  God 
distino^uishes  between  the  rio;hteous  and  the  wicked, 
that  he  rewards  the  one  and  punishes  the  other,  and 
hence  he  cherished  a  salutary  fear  of  his  Maker  that 
agreed  well  with  the  dictates  of  his  unsophisticated 
reason,  and  the  teachings  of  nature  and  revelation. 
But  when  he  became  a  man,  he  put  away  these 
childish  thinsrs,  in  a  far  different  sense  from  that  of 
the  Apostle.  As  the  years  rolled  along,  he  succeed- 
ed, by  a  career  of  worldliness  and  of  sensuality,  in 
expelling  this  stock  of  religious  knowledge,  this 
right  way  of  conceiving  of  God,  from  his  mind,  and 
now  at  the  close  of  life  and  upon  the  veiy  brink  of 
eternity  and  of  doom,  this  very  same  person  is  as 
unbelieving  respecting  the  moral  attriljutes  of  Je- 
hovah, and  as  unfearino;  with  res^ard  to  them,  as  if 
the  entire  experience  and  creed  of  his  childhood 
and  youth  were  a  delusion  and  a  lie.  This  rational 
and  immortal  creature  in  the  morning  of  his  exist- 
ence looked  up  into  the  clear  sky  with  reverence, 
being  impressed  by  the  eternal  power  and  godhead 
til  at  are  there,  and  when  he  had  committed  a  sin  he 
felt  remorseful  and  guilty ;  but  the  very  same  per- 
son now  sins  recklessly  and  with  flinty  hardness  of 


SOURCE   OF   EKEOE   LN"   TILE   HEAD.  118 

teart,  casts  sullen  or  scowling  glances  upward,  and 
says :  "  There  is  no  God."  Compare  the  Edward 
Gibbon  whose  childhood  expanded  under  the  teach- 
infjs  of  a  beloved  Christian  matron  trained  in  the 
school  of  the  devout  William  Law,  and  whose  youth 
exhibited  unwonted  religious  sensibility, — compare 
this  Edward  Gibbon  with  the  Edward  Gibbon 
whose  manhood  was  saturated  with  utter  unbelief, 
and  Avhose  departure  into  the  dread  hereafter  was, 
in  his  own  phrase,  "  a  leap  in  the  dark."  Compare 
the  Aaron  Burr  whose  blood  Avas  deduced  from  one 
of  the  most  saintly  lineages  in  the  history  of  the 
American  church,  and  all  of  whose  early  life  was 
embosomed  in  ancestral  piety, — compare  this  Aaron 
Burr  with  the  Aaron  Burr  whose  middle  life  and 
prolonged  old  age  was  unimpressible  as  marljle 
to  all  religious  ideas  and  influences.  In  both  of 
these  instances,  it  was  the  aversion  of  the  heart  that 
for  a  season  (not  for  eternity^  be  it  remembered) 
quenched  out  the  light  in  the  head.  These  men, 
like  the  pagan  of  whom  St.  Paul  speaks,  did  not 
like  to  retain  a  holy  God  in  their  knowledge,  and 
lie  gave  them  over  to  a  reprobate  mind. 

Tliese  fluctuations  and  changes  in  doctrinal  belief, 
botli  in  theo-eneral  and  the  individual  mind,  furnish 
materials  for  deep  reflection  by  both  the  phik^so- 
pher  and  the  Christian;  and  such  an  one  will  often 
be  led  to  notice  the  exact  parallel  and  similarity 
there  is  between  relisrious  deterioration  in  races,  and 
religious  deterioration  in  individuals.     The  dislike 


114  SIN   IN   THE   HEART  THE 

to  retain  a  knowledge  already  furnished,  because  it 
is  painful,  because  it  rebukes  worldliness  and  sin,  is 
that  which  ruins  both  mankind  in  general,  and  the 
man  in  particular.  Were  the  heart  only  conformed 
to  the  truth,  the  truth  never  would  be  corrupted, 
never  would  be  even  temporarily  darkened  in  the 
human  soul.  Should  the  pagan,  himself,  actually 
obey  the  dictates  of  his  own  reason  and  conscience, 
he  would  find  the  light  that  was  in  him  growing 
still  clearer  and  brighter.  God  himself,  the  author 
of  his  rational  mind,  and  the  Light  that  lighteth 
every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world,  would  re- 
ward him  for  his  obedience  by  granting  him  yet 
more  knowledge.  We  cannot  say  in  what  particu- 
lar mode  the  Divine  providence  would  bring  it 
about,  but  it  is  as  certain  as  that  God  lives,  that  if 
the  pagan  world  should  act  up  to  the  degree  of  light 
which  they  enjoy,  they  would  be  conducted  ulti- 
mately to  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  and  would  be 
saved  by  the  Kedeemer  of  the  world.  The  instance 
of  the  Koman  centurion  Cornelius  is  a  case  in  point. 
This  was  a  thoughtful  and  serious  pagan.  It  is  in- 
deed very  probaljle  that  his  military  residence  in 
Palestine  had  cleared  up,  to  some  degree,  his  natu- 
ral intuitions  of  moral  truth;  but  we  know  that  he 
was  ignoi'ant  of  the  way  of  salvation  through  Christ, 
from  the  fact  that  the  apostle  Peter  was  instructed 
in  a  vision  to  go  and  preach  it  unto  him.  The  sin- 
cere endeavor  of  this  Gentile,  this  then  pagan  in 
reference   to    Christianity,   to   improve   the    little 


SOURCE    OF    ERROR   IN    THE   IlEAD. 


115 


knowledge  which  he  had,  met  with  the  Divine  ap- 
probation, and  was  crowned  with  a  saving  acquaint- 
ance with  the  redemption  that  is  in  Christ  Jesus. 
Peter  himself  testified  to  this,  when,  after  hearing 
from  the  lips  of  Cornelius  the  account  of  his  pre- 
vious life,  and  of  the  way  in  which  God  had  led 
him,  "  he  opened  his  mouth  and  said,  Of  a  truth 
I  perceive  that  God  is  no  respecter  of  persons: 
but  in  every  nation,  he  that  feareth  him  and  work- 
eth  righteousness  is  accepted  with  him"  (Acts  x. 
34,  35).^ 

But  such  instances  as  this  of  Cornelius  are  not 
one  in  millions  upon  millions.  The  light  shines  in 
the  darkness  that  comprehends  it  not.  Almost 
without  an  exception,  so  far  as  the  human  eye  can 
see,  the  uuevangelized  world  holds  the  truth  in  un- 
righteousness, and  does  not  like  to  retain  the  idea 
of  a  holy  God,  and  a  holy  law,  in  its  knowledge. 
Therefore  the  knowledge  continually  diminishes ; 


'  It  should  be  noticed  tliat  Cor- 
nelius was  not  i)repured  for  an- 
otlier  life,  by  tlie  moral  virtue 
which  lie  had  practised  before 
meeting  with  Peter,  but  by  his 
])enitence  for  sin  and  faith  in 
Jesus  Christ,  whom  Peter  preach- 
ed toliim  as  the  Saviour  fi'om  sin 
(Acts  X.  43).  Good  works  can 
no  more  prepare  a  pagan  for  eter- 
nity than  tiiey  can  a  nominal 
(.Christian.  Epictetus  and  Marcus 
Aurelius  could  no  more  be  justi- 
fied by  their  personal  ciiaracter, 
than  Saul  of  Tarsus  could  be. 
i'irst,  because  tlie  virtue  is  imper- 
fect, at  the  best:  and,  seconilly, 
it  does  not  begin  at  the  beginning 


of  existence  upon  earth,  and  con- 
tinue unintermittently  to  the  end 
of  it.  A  sense  of  niii  is  a  far  more 
liopeful  indication,  in  the  instance 
of  a  heathen,  than  a  sense  of  vir- 
tue. The  utter  absence  of  humil- 
ity and  sorrow  in  the  "  Medita- 
tions" of  the  philosopiiic  Empe- 
ror, and  the  omnipresence  in  them 
of  pride  and  self-satisfaction,  phice 
him  out  of  all  relations  to  the 
Div'ma  mercy.  In  trying  to  judge 
of  the  final  condition  of  a  pagan 
ontside  of  revelation,  we  must  ask 
the  question  :  Was  he  penitent? 
rather  than  the  question :  Waa 
he  virtuous? 


il6  SESr   IN   THE   IIEAET   THE 

the  VvAit  of  natural  reason  and  conscience  grows 
dimmer  and  dimmer;  and  the  soul  sinks  down  in 
the  mire  of  sin  and  sensuality,  apparently  devoid  of 
all  the  higher  ideas  of  God,  and  law,  and  immortal 
life. 

We  have  thus  considered  the  truth  which  St. 
Paul  teaches  in  the  text,  that  the  ultimate  source  of 
all  human  error  is  in  the  character  of  the  human 
heart.  Mankind  do  not  like  to  retain  God  in  their 
knowledge,  and  therefore  they  come  to  possess  a 
rejirobate  mind.  The  origin  of  idolatry,  and  of  in- 
fidelity, is  not  in  the  original  constitution  with 
which  the  Creator  endowed  the  creature,  but  in  that 
evil  heart  of  unbelief  by  which  he  departed  from 
the  living  God.  Sinful  man  shapes  his  creed  in  ac- 
cordance with  his  wishes,  and  not  in  accordance 
with  the  unbiased  decisions  of  his  reason  and  con- 
science. He  does  not  llhe  to  think  of  a  holy  God, 
and  therefore  he  denies  that  God  is  holy.  He  does 
not  lihe  to  think  of  the  eternal  punishment  of  sin, 
and  therefore  he  denies  that  punishment  is  eternal. 
He  does  not  lihe  to  be  pardoned  through  the  sub- 
stituted sufferings  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  therefore 
he  denies  the  doctrine  of  atonement.  He  does  not 
lihe  the  truth  that  man  is  so  totally  alienated  from 
God  that  he  needs  to  be  renewed  in  the  spirit  of 
his  mind  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  therefore  he  de- 
nies the  doctrines  of  depravity  and  regeneration. 
Run  through  the  creed  which  the  Church  has  lived 
by  and  died  by,  and  you  will  discover  that  the  only 


SOURCE    OF    ERROR    IN    THE    HEAD.  117 

obstacle  to  its  reception  is  the  aversion  of  the  hu- 
man heart.  It  is  a  rational  creed  in  all  its  parts 
and  combinations.  It  has  outlived  the  collisions 
and  conflicts  of  a  hundred  schools  of  infidelity  that 
have  had  their  brief  day,  and  died  with  their  devo- 
tees. A  hundred  systems  of  philosophy  falsely  so 
called  have  come  and  gone,  but  the  one  old  religion 
of  the  patriarchs,  and  the  prophets,  and  the  apostles, 
holds  on  its  way  through  the  centuries,  conquering 
and  to  conquer.  Can  it  be  that  sheer  imposture 
and  error  have  such  a  tenacious  vitality  as  this? 
If  reason  is  upon  the  side  of  infidelity,  why  does 
not  infidelity  remain  one  and  the  same  unchanging 
thing,  like  Christianity,  from  age  to  age,  and  subdue 
all  men  unto  it?  If  Christianity  is  a  delusion  and 
a  lie,  why  does  it  not  die  out,  and  disappear?  The 
difticulty  is  not  upon  the  side  of  the  human  reason, 
but  of  the  human  heart.  Skeptical  men  do  not 
like  the  religion  of  the  New  Testament,  these  doc- 
trines of  sin  and  grace,  and  therefore  they  shape 
their  creed  by  their  sympathies  and  antipathies;  by 
what  they  wish  to  have  true ;  by  their  heart  rather 
than  by  their  head.  As  the  Founder  of  Christian- 
ity said  to  the  Jews,  so  he  says  to  every  man  who 
rejects  His  doctrine  of  grace  and  redemption  :  "  Ye 
will  not  come  unto  me  that  ye  might  have  life." 
It  is  an  inclination  of  the  will,  and  not  a  conviction 
of  the  reason,  that  prevents  the  reception  of  the 
Christian  reliijcion. 

Among  the  many  reflections  that  are  suggested 


118  SIN    IN   THE   HEAET   THE 

by  tbis  subject  and  its  discussion,  our  limits  permit 
only  the  following : 

1.  It  betokens  deep  wickedness,  in  any  man,  to 
change  the  truth  of  God  into  a  lie, — to  suhstitute  a 
false  theory  in  religion  for  the  true  one.  "  Woe 
unto  them,"  says  the  prophet,  "  that  call  evil  good, 
and  good  evil ;  that  put  darkness  for  light,  and  light 
for  darkness ;  that  put  bitter  for  sweet,  and  sweet 
for  bitter."  There  is  no  form  of  moral  evil  that  is 
more  hateful  in  the  sight  of  Infinite  Truth,  than 
that  intellectual  depravity  which  does  not  like  to 
retain  a  holy  God  in  its  knowledge,  and  therefore 
mutilates  the  very  idea  of  tke  Deity,  and  attempts 
to  make  him  other  than  he  is.  There  is  no  sinner 
that  will  be  visited  with  a  heavier  vengeance  than 
that  cool  and  calculating  man,  who,  because  he  dis- 
likes the  unyielding  purity  of  the  moral  law,  and 
tke  awful  sanctions  by  which  it  is  accompanied,  de- 
liberately alters  it  to  suit  his  wishes  and  his  self- 
indulgence.  If  a  person  is  tempted  and  falls  into 
sin,  and  yet  does  not  change  his  religious  creed  in 
order  to  escape  the  reproaches  of  conscience  and  the 
fear  of  retribution,  there  is  hope  that  the  orthodoxy 
of  bis  bead  may  result,  by  God's  blessing  upon  his 
own  truth,  in  sorrow  for  the  sin  and  a  forsaking  there- 
of. A  man,  for  instance,  who  amidst  all  his  tempta- 
tions and  transo-ressions  still  retains  the  truth 
taught  him  from  the  Scriptures,  at  his  mother's 
knees,  that  a  finally  impenitent  sinner  will  go  down 
to  eternal  torment,  feels  a  powerful  check  upon  his 


SOURCE  OF  ERROR  LN  THE  HEAD.      119 

passions,  and  is  often  kept  from  outward  and  actual 
ti-ansgressious  by  his  creed.  But  if  he  deliberately, 
aud  by  an  act  of  will,  says  in  his  heart :  "  There  is 
no  heU;"  if  he  substitutes  for  the  theory  that  ren- 
ders the  commission  of  sin  dangerous  and  fearful,  a 
theory  that  relieves  it  from  all  danger  and  all  fear, 
there  is  no  hope  that  he  will  ever  cease  from  sinning. 
On  the  contrary,  having  brought  his  head  into  har- 
mony with  his  heart;  having  adjusted  his  theory 
to  his  practice ;  having  shaped  his  creed  by  his  pas- 
sions ;  having  changed  the  truth  of  God  into  a  lie ; 
he  then  plunges  into  sin  with  an  abandonment  and 
a  momentum  that  is  awful.  In  the  phrase  of  the 
prophet,  he  "  draws  iniquity  with  cords  of  vanity, 
and  sin  as  it  were  with  a  cart-rope." 

It  is  here  jhat  we  see  the  deep  guilt  of  those,  who, 
by  false  theories  of  God  and  man  and  law  and 
penalty,  tempt  the  young  or  the  old  to  their  eternal 
destruction.  It  is  sad  and  fearful,  when  the  weak 
physical  nature  is  plied  with  all  the  enticements  of 
earth  and  sense ;  but  it  is  yet  sadder  and  more 
fearful,  wher:  the  intellectual  nature  is  sought  to  be 
perverted  i/nd  ensnared  by  specious  theories  that 
annihilate  the  distinction  between  virtue  and  vice, 
that  take  away  all  holy  fear  of  God,  and  reverence 
for  Ilis  law,  that  represent  the  everlasting  future 
either  as  an  everlasting  elysium  for  all,  or  else  as 
an  eternal  sleep.  The  demoralization,  in  this  in- 
stance, is  central  and  radical.  It  is  in  the  brain,  in 
the  veiy  understanding  itself.     If  the  foundations 


120  srisr  in  the  iieari  the 

themselves  of  morals  and  religion  are  destroyed, 
wliat  can  be  done  for  the  salvation  of  the  creature  I 
A  heavy  woe  is  denounced  against  any  and  every 
one  who  tempts  a  fellow-being.  Temptation  implies 
malice.  It  is  Satanic.  It  betokens  a  desire  to  ruin 
an  immortal  spirit.  When  therefore  the  siren  would 
allure  a  human  creature  from  the  path  of  virtue,  the 
inspiration  of  God  utters  a  deep  and  bitter  curse 
against  her.  But  when  the  cold-blooded  Mephisto- 
pheles  endeavors  to  sophisticate  the  reason,  to  de- 
bauch the  judgment,  to  sear  the  conscience;  when 
the  temptation  is  addressed  to  the  intellect,  and  the 
desire  of  the  tempter  is  to  overthrow  the  entire  re- 
ligious creed  of  a  human  being, — perhaps  a  youth 
just  entering  upon  that  hazardous  enterprise  of  life 
in  which  he  needs  every  jot  and  tittle  of  eternal 
truth  to  guide  and  protect  him, — when  the  entice- 
ment assumes  this  purely  mental  form  and  aspect, 
it  betokens  the  most  malicrnant  and  heaven-darins: 
guilt  in  the  tempter.  And  we  may  be  certain  that 
the  retribution  that  will  be  meted  out  to  it,  by  Him 
who  is  true  and  The  Truth ;  who  abhors  all  fjilse- 
hood  and  all  lies  with  an  infinite  intensity ;  will  be 
terrible  beyond  conception.  "Woe  unto  you  ye 
blind  guides  /  Ye  serpents,  ye  generation  of  vipers, 
how  can  ye  escape  tlie  damnation  of  hell  !  If  any 
man  shall  add  unto  these  things,  God  shall  add 
unto  him  the  plagues  that  are  written  in  this  book. 
And  if  any  man  shall  take  away  from  the  words  of 
the  book  of  tljis  prophecy,  God  shall  take  away 


SOUKCE    OF   EREOE    IN   THE   HEAD.  121 

Lis  part  out  of  the  book  of  life,  and  out  of  the  holy 
city,  and  from  the  things  that  are  written  in  this 
book." 

2.  In  the  second  place,  we  perceive,  in  the  light 
of  this  suhject,  tlie  great  danger  of  not  red ac lug  re- 
Jig  ions  truth  to  practice.  There  are  two  fatal 
hazards  in  not  obeying  the  doctrines  of  the  Bil)le 
while  yet  there  is  an  intellectual  assent  to  them. 
The  first  is,  that  these  doctrines  shall  themselves 
become  diluted  and  corrupted.  So  long  as  the  af- 
fectionate sul)mission  of  the  heart  is  not  yielded  to 
their  authority  ;  so  long  as  there  is  any  dislike  to- 
wards their  holy  claims ;  there  is  great  danger  that, 
as  in  the  instance  of  the  pagan,  they  will  not  he  re- 
tained in  the  knowledge.  The  sinful  man  becomes 
weary  of  a  form  of  doctrine  that  continually  rebukes 
him,  and  gradually  changes  it  into  one  that  is  less 
truthful  and  restraining.  But  a  second  and  equally 
alarmino^  dans^er  is,  that  the  heart  shall  become  ac- 
customed  to  the  truth,  and  grow  hard  and  indiffer- 
ent towards  it.  There  are  a  multitude  of  persons 
who  hear  the  word  of  God  and  never  dream  of  dis- 
puting it,  wdio  yet,  alas,  never  dream  of  ol)eying 
it.  To  such  the  living  truth  of  the  gospel  becomes 
a  petrifaction,  and  a  savior  of  death  unto  death. 

We  urge  you,  therefore,  ye  who  know  the  doc- 
trines of  the  law  and  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel,  to 
give  an  affectionate  and  hearty  assent  to  them  hotli. 
Wlien  the  divine  Word  asserts  that  you  are  guilty, 
and  that  you  cannot  stand  in  the  judgment  l)efore 


122  SIN    IN    THE    HEAET. 

God,  make  answer:  "It  is  so,  it  is  so."  Practically 
and  deeply  acknowledge  the  doctrine  of  human 
guilt  and  corruption.  Let  it  ho  longer  be  a  theory 
in  the  head,  but  a  humbling  salutary  conscious- 
ness in  the  heart.  And  when  the  divine  Word  af- 
firms that  God  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave  his 
Only-Begotten  Son  to  redeem  it,  make  a  quick  and 
joyful  response :  "  It  is  so,  it  is  so."  Instead  of 
changing  the  truth  of  God  into  a  lie,  as  the  guilty 
world  have  been  doing  for  six  thousand  years, 
chano-e  it  into  a  blessed  consciousness  of  the  soul. 
Believe  what  you  know ;  and  then  what  you  know 
will  be  the  wisdom  of  God  to  your  salvation. 


THE  NECESSITY  OP  DIVINE  INFLUENCES. 


.3TJKE  xi.  13. — "  If  ye  then,  being  evil,  know  how  to  give  good  gifts  unto  your 
children ;  how  much  more  shall  your  heavenly  Fathf**  give  the  Holy  Spirit 
to  them  that  ask  him  ?  " 


The  reality,  and  necessity,  of  the  operation  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  upon  the  human  heart,  is  a  doctrine 
very  frequently  taught  in  the  Scriptures.  Our  Lord, 
in  the  passage  from  which  the  text  is  taken,  speaks  of 
the  third  Person  in  the  Trinity  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  convey  the  impression  that  His  agency  is  as  in- 
dispensable, in  order  to  spiritual  life,  as  food  is  in 
order  to  physical ;  that  sinful  man  as  much  needs 
the  influences  of  the  Holy  Ghost  as  he  does  his 
daily  bread.  "  If  a  son  shall  ask  bread  of  any  of 
you  that  is  a  father,  will  he  give  him  a  stone  ?  "  If 
this  is  not  at  all  supposable,  in  the  case  of  an  affec- 
tionate earthly  parent,  much  less  is  it  supposable 
that  God  the  heavenly  Father  will  refuse  renewing 
and  sanctifying  influences  to  them  that  ask  for  them. 
By  employing  such  a  significant  comparison  as  this, 
our  Lord  implies  that  there  is  as  pressing  need  of 
the  gift  in  the  one  instance  as  in  the  other.  For, 
he  does  not  compare  spiritual  influences  with  the 


124        THE   NECESSITY    OF   DIVINE   INFLUENCES. 

mere  luxuries  of  life, — with  wealth,  fame,  or  power 
— l^nt  with  the  very  staff  of  life  itself.  He  selects  the 
very  bread  by  which  the  human  body  lives,  to  illus- 
trate the  helj)less  sinner's  need  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
When  God,  by  his  prophet,  w^ould  teach  His  peo- 
ple that  he  would  at  some  future  time  bestow  a 
rich  and  remarkable  blessing  upon  -^hem,  He  says : 
"  I  will  pour  out  my  Spirit  upon  all  flesh,"  When 
our  Saviour  was  about  to  leave  his  disciples,  and 
was  sendino;  them  forth  as  the  ministers  of  his  relief- 
ion,  he  promised  them  a  direct  and  supernatural 
agency  that  should  "  reprove  the  world  of  sin,  of 
righteousness,  and  of  judgment." 

And  the  history  of  Christianity  evinces  both,  the 
necessity  and  reality  of  Divine  influences.  God  the 
Spirit  has  actually  been  present  by  a  special  and 
peculiar  agency,  in  this  sinful  and  hardened  world, 
and  hence  the  heart  of  flesh  and  the  spread  of  vital 
religion.  God  the  Spirit  has  actually  been  absent, 
so  far  as  concerns  his  special  and  peculiar  agency, 
and  hence  the  continuance  of  the  heart  of 
stone,  and  the  decline,  and  sometimes  the  ex- 
tinction of  vital  religion.  Where  the  Holy  Spirit 
has  been,  specially  and  peculiarly,  there  the  true 
Church  of  Christ  has  been,  and  where  the  Holy 
Spirit  has  not  been,  specially  and  peculiarly,  there 
the  Church  of  Christ  has  not  been ;  however  care- 
fully, or  imposingly,  the  externals  of  a  church  organ- 
ization may  have  been  maintained. 

But  there  is  no  stronger,  or  more  effective  proof 


THE   NECESSITY    OF   DIVINE   INFLUENCES.        125 

of  the  need  of  the  presence  and  agency  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  tlian  that  which  is  derived  from  the  nature 
of  the  r.ase,  as  it  appears  in  the  individual.  Just  in 
proportion  as  we  come  to  know  our  o^vn  moral  con- 
dition, and  our  own  moral'  necessities,  shall  we  see 
and  feel  that  the  orio-in  and  OTowth  of  holiness  with- 
in  our  earthly  and  alienated  souls,  without  the  agen- 
cy of  God  the  Holy  Spirit,  is  an  utter  impossibility. 
Let  us  then  look  into  the  argument  from  the  nature 
of  the  case,  and  consider  this  doctrine  of  a  direct 
Divine  operation,  in  its  relations  to  ourselves  per- 
sonally. Why,  then,  does  every  man  need  these 
influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit  which  are  so  cordially 
offered  in  the  text  ? 

I.  He  needs  them,  in  the  first  place,  in  order  that 
lie  irriay  he  convinced  of  the  reality  of  the  eternal 
world. 

There  is  such  a  world.  It  has  as  actual  an  exist- 
ence as  Europe  or  Asia.  Though  not  an  object  for 
any  one  of  the  five  senses,  the  invisible  world  is  as 
substantial  as  the  great  globe  itself,  and  will  be 
standino;  when  the  elements  shall  have  been  melted 
Avith  fervent  heat,  and  the  heavens  are  no  more. 
Tills  eternal  world,  furthermore,  is  not  only  real, 
but  it  is  filled  with  realities  that  are  yet  more  sol- 
emn. God  inhabits  it.  The  judgment-seat  of 
Christ  is  set  up  in  it.  Heaven  is  in  it.  Hell  is  in 
it.  Myriads  of  myriads  of  holy  and  happy  spirits 
are  there.  IMyriads  of  sinful  and  wretched  spirits 
are  there.     Nay,  this  unseen  world  is  the  only  real 


126        THE    NECESSITY    OF   DIVIKE   INFLUE^STCES. 

world,  and  the  objects  in  it  tlie  only  real  objects,  if 
we  remember  that  only  that  which  is  immutable  de- 
serves the  name  of  real.  If  we  employ  the  eternal  as 
the  measure  of  real  being,  then  all  that  is  outside  of 
eternity  is  unreal  and  'a  vanity.  This  material 
world  acquires  impressiveness  for  man,  by  virtue 
of  the  ol)jects  that  fill  it.  His  farm  is  in  it,  his 
houses  are  upon  it,  solid  mountains  rise  up  from  it^ 
great  rivers  run  through  it,  and  the  old  rolling 
heavens  are  bent  over  it.  But  what  is  the  transient 
reality  of  these  objects,  these  morning  vapors,  com- 
pared with  the  everlasting  reality  of  such  beings  as 
God  and  the  soul,  of  such  facts  as  holiness  and  sin, 
of  such  states  as  heaven  and  hell  ?  Here,  then,  we 
have  in  the  unseen  and  eternal  world  a  most  solemn 
and  real  object  of  knowledge ;  but  where,  among 
mankind,  is  the  solemn  and  vivid  knowledo-e  itself? 
Knowledo-e  is  the  union  of  a  fact  with  a  feelinor. 
There  may  be  a  stone  in  the  street,  Init  unless  I 
smite  it  with  my  foot,  or  smite  it  with  my  eye,  I 
have  no  knowledge  of  the  stone.  So,  too,  there  is 
an  invisible  world,  outstanding  and  awfully  impress- 
ive ;  bat  unless  I  feel  its  influences,  and  stand  with 
awe  beneath  its  shadows,  it  is  as  though  it  were 
not.  Here  is  an  orb  that  has  risen  up  into  the  ho- 
rizon, but  all  eyes  are  shut. 

For,  no  thoughtful  observer  f  lils  to  perceive  that 
an  earthly,  and  unspiritiial  mode  of  thought  and 
feeling  is  the  prevalent  one  among  men.  No  one 
who  has  ever  endeavored  to  arrest  the  attention  of 


TnE    NECESSITY    OF   DIVINE   INFLUENCES.        127 

a  fellow-man,  and  give  his  tliouglits  an  upward  ten- 
dency towards  eternity,  will  say  that  the  effort  is 
easily  and  generally  successful.  On  the  contrary, 
if  an  ethereal  and  holy  inhabitant  of  heaven  ^v^ere 
to  go  up  and  down  our  earth,  and  witness  man's 
immersion  in  sense  and  time,  the  earthliness  of  his 
views  and  aims,  his  neglect  of  spiritual  ol)jects  and 
interests,  his  absorption  in  this  existence,  and  his 
forgetfulness  of  the -other,  it  would  be  difficult  to 
convince  him  that  he  was  amono;  beino-s  made  in 
the  imao-e  of  God,  and  was  mino-lino:  with  a  race 
having  an  immortal  destination  beyond  the  grave. 
In  this  first  feature  of  the  case,  then,  as  we  find 
it  in  ourselves,  and  see  it  in  all  our  fellow-men,  we 
have  the  first  evidence  of  the  need  of  awakening  in- 
fluences  from  on  high.  Since  man,  naturally,  is 
destitute  of  a  solemn  sense  of  eternal  thin^rs,  it  is 
plain  that  there  can  be  no  moral  change  produced 
in  him,  unless  he  is  first  wakened  from  tliis  drowze. 
lie  cannot  become  the  su1)ject  of  that  new  birth 
Avithout  which  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God, 
unless  his  torpor  respecting  the  Unseen  is  removed. 
Entirely  satisfied  as  he  now  is  w*ith  this  mode  of 
existence,  and  thinkins;  little  or  nothino*  about  an- 
other,  the  first  necessity  in  his  case  is  a  startle,  and 
an  alarm.  Difficult  as  he  now  finds  it  to  l)e,  to 
bring  the  invisil)le  world  before  his  mind  in  a  way 
to  affect  his  feelings,  he  needs  to  have  it  loom  upon 
his  inward  vision  with  such  power  and  impressive- 
ness  that  he  cannot  take  his  eye  off',  if  he  would. 


128        THE   NECESSITY   OF   DIVINE   INFLUENCES. 

Lethargic  as  lie  now  is,  respecting  liis  o^\m  immor- 
tality, it  is  impossible  for  him  to  live  and  act  with 
constant  reference  to  it,  unless  he  is  wakened  to  its 
significance.  Is  it  not  self-evident,  that  if  the  sinner's 
present  indifference  towards  the  invisible  world,  and 
his  failure  to  feel  its  solemn  reality,  continues 
through  life,  he  will  certainly  enter  that  state  of 
existence  with  his  present  character  ?  Looking  into 
the  human  spirit,  and  seeing  ho^v  dead  it  is  towards 
God  and  the  future,  must  we  not  say,  that  if  this 
deadness  to  eternity  lasts  until  the  death  of  the 
body,  it  will  certainly  be  the  death  of  the  soul  ? 

But,  in  what  way  can  man  be  made  to  realize 
that  there  is  an  eternal  world,  to  which  he  is  rapid- 
ly tending,  and  realities  there,  with  which,  by  the 
very  constitution  of  his  spirit,  he  is  forever  and  in- 
dissolubly  connected  either  for  bliss  or  woe  ?  How 
shall  thoughtless  and  earthly  man,  as  he  treads  these 
streets,  and  transacts,  all  this  business,  and  enjoys 
life,  be  made  to  feel  with  misgiving,  foreboding,  and 
alarm,  that  there  is  an  eternity,  and  that  he  must 
soon  enter  it,  as  other  men  do,  either  as  a  heaven  or 
a  hell  for  his  soul  ?  The  answer  to  this  question, 
so  often  asked  in  sadness  and  sorrow  by  the  preach- 
er of  the  word,  drives  us  back  to  the  throne  of  God 
and  to  a  mightier  agency  than  that  of  man. 

For  one  thing  is  certain,  that  this  apathy  and 
deadness  will  never  of  itself  generate  sensibilit}^  and 
life.  Satan  never  casts  out  Satan.  If  this  slumber- 
er  be  left  to  himself,  he  is  lost.    Should  any  man  l>e 


THE   NECESSITY    OF    DIVINE   INFLUENCES.        129 

given  over  to  the  natural  inclination  of  Lis  heart, 
he  would  never  be  awakened.  Should  his  earthly 
mind  receive  no  check,  and  his  cori'upt  heart  take 
its  own  way,  he  would  never  realize  that  there  is 
another  world  than  this,  until  he  entered  it.  For, 
the  worldly  mind  and  the  corrupt  heart  busy  them- 
selves solely  and  happily  with  this  existence.  They 
find  pleasure  in  the  things  of  tliis  life,  and  therefore 
never  look  beyond  them.  Worldly  men  do  not  in- 
terfere with  their  own  present  actual  enjoyment. 
AVho  of  this  class  voluntarily  makes  himself  unhap- 
py, by  thinking  of  subjects  that  are  gloomy  to  his 
mind  ?  What  man  of  the  world  starts  up  from  his 
sweet  sleep  and  his  pleasant  dreams,  and  of  his  own 
accord  looks  the  stern  realities  of  death  and  the 
judgment  in  the  eye  ?  No  natural  man  begins  to 
wound  himself,  that  he  may  be  healed.  No  earth- 
ly man  l)egins  to  slay  himself,  that  he  niay  be  made 
alive.  Even  when  the  natural  heart  is  roused  and 
wakened  by  some  foreign  agency ;  some  startling 
providence  of  God  or  some  Divine  operation  in  the 
conscience,  how  soon,  if  left  to  its  own  motion  and 
tendency,  does  it  relapse  into  its  old  slumber 
and  sleep.  The  needle  has  received  a  shock,  but 
after  a  slio-ht  trembliuo;  and  vibration  it  soon  settles 
again  upon  its  axis,  ever  and  steady  to  the  north. 
It  is  plain,  that  the  sinner's  worldly  mind  and  a2:)a- 
thetic  nature  will  never  conduct  him  to  a  proper 
sense  of  Divine  thing's. 

The  awakening,  then,  of  the  human  soul,  to  an 


130        THE   NECESSITY    OF   DIVINE   INFLUENCES. 

effectual  apprehension  of  eternal  realities,  must  take 
its  first  issue  from  some  other  Beins;  than  the  drow- 
zy  and  slumbering  creature  himself.  We  are  not 
speaking  of  a  few  serious  thoughts  that  now  and 
then  fleet  across  the  human  mind,  like  meteors  at 
midnight,  and  are  seen  no  more.  We  are  speaking 
of  that  permanent,  that  everlasting  dawning  of  eter- 
nity, with  its  terrors  and  its  splendors,  upon  the 
human  soul,  which  allows  it  no  more  repose,  until 
it  is  prepared  for  eternity  u2:)on  good  grounds  and 
foundations  ;  and  with  reference  to  such  a  profound 
consciousness  of  the  future  state  as  this,  we  say  with 
confidence,  that  the  aAvakening  must  proceed  from 
some  Being  who  is  far  more  alive  to  the  solemnity 
and  significance  of  eternal  duration  than  earthly 
man  is.  Without  impulses  from  on  high,  the  sin- 
ner never  rouses  up  to  attend  to  the  subject  of  re- 
lioion.  He  lives  on  indifferent  to  his  reliQ:ious  in- 
terests,  until  God^  who  is  more  merciful  to  his 
deathless  soul  than  he  himself  is,  by  His  providence 
startles  him,  or  by  His  Spirit  in  his  conscience  alai'ms 
him.  Never,  until  God  interferes  to  disturb  his 
dreams,  and  break  up  his  slumber,  does  he  pro- 
fv)undly  and  permanently  feel  that  he  was  made 
for  another  world,  and  is  fast  going  into  it.  How 
often  does  God  say  to  the  careless  man :  "  Arise,  O 
sleeper,  and  Christ  shall  give  thee  light ; "  and  how 
often  does  he  disregard  the  warning  voice  !  How 
often  does  God  stimulate  his  conscience,  and  flare 
light  into  his  mind ;  and  how  often  does  he  stifle 


THE   NECESSITY    OF   DIVINE    INFLUENCES.        131 

down  these  inward  convictions,  and  suffer  the  light 
to  shine  in  the  darkness  that  comprehends  it  not ! 
These  facts  in  the  personal  history  of  every  sin-lov- 
ino-  man  show,  that  the  human  soul  does  not  of  its 
own  isolated  action  wake  up  to  the  realities  of  eter- 
nity. They  also  show  that  God  is  very  merciful  to 
the  human  soul,  in  positively  and  powerfully  inter- 
fering for  its  welfare  ;  but  that  man,  in  inhnite  folly 
and  wickedness,  loves  the  sleep,  and  inclines  to  re- 
main in  it.  The  Holy  Spirit  strives,  but  the  human 
spirit  resists. 

II.  In  the  second  place,  man  needs  the  influ- 
ences of  the  Holy  Spirit  that  lie  may  he  convinced 
of  sin. 

Man  universally  is  a  sinner,  and  yet  he  needs  in 
every  jingle  instance  to  be  made  aware  of  it. 
"  There  is  none  good,  no,  not  one ; "  and  yet  out  of 
the  millions  of  the  race  how  very  few  feel  this 
truth  !  Not  only  does  man  sin,  but  he  adds  to  his 
guilt  by  remaining  ignorant  of  it.  The  criminal  in 
this  instance  also,  as  in  our  courts  of  law,  feels  and 
confesses  his  crime  no  taster  than  it  is  proved  to 
him.  Through  what  blindness  of  mind,  and  hard- 
ness of  heart,  and  insensibility  of  conscience,  is  the 
Holy  Spirit  obliged  to  force  His  way,  before  thei'e 
is  a  sincere  acknowledo-ment  of  sin  before  God ' 
The  careful  investigations,  the  persevering  question- 
ings nud  cross-questionings,  l)y  which,  before  a  hu- 
man tribunal,  the  wilful  and  unrepenting  criminal 
is  forced  to  see   and   acknowledge  his   ^vickedness, 


132        THE   NECESSITY    OF   DIVINE   INFLUENCES. 

are  but  faint  emblems  of  that  tliorou2:li  work  that 
must  l)e  wrought  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  before  the  hu' 
man  soul,  at  a  hio-her  tribunal,  forsaking;  its  refuofes 
of  lies,  and  desisting  from  its  subterfuges  and  palli- 
ations, smites  upon  the  breast,  and  cries,  "  God  be 
merciful  to  me  a  sinner !  "  Think  how  much  of  our 
sin  has  occurred  in  total  apathy,  and  indifference, 
and  how  unwilling  we  are  to  have  any  distinct  con- 
sciousness upon  this  subject.  It  is  only  now  and 
then  that  we  feel  ourselves  to  be  sinners ;  but  it  is 
by  no  means  only  now  and  then  that  we  are  sinners. 
We  sin  habitually ;  we  are  conscious  of  sin  rarely. 
Our  affections  and  inclinations  and  motives  are  evil, 
and  only  evil,  continually  ;  but  our  experimental 
'knowledge  that  they  are  so  comes  not  often  into 
our  mind,  and  what  is  worse  stays  not  long,  because 
we  dislike  it. 

The  conviction  of  sin,  with  what  it  includes  and 
"leads  to,  is  of  moi'e  worth  to  man  than  all  other 
convictions.  Conviction  of  any  sort, — a  living 
practical  consciousness  of  any  kind, — is  of  great 
value,  because  it  is  only  this  species  of  knowledge 
that  moves  mankind.  Convince  a  man,  that  is,  give 
him  a  consciousness,  of  the  truth  of  a  principle  in 
politics,  in  trade,  or  in  religion,  and  you  actuate 
him  politically,  commercially,  or  religiously.  Con- 
vince a  criminal  of  his  crime,  that  is,  endue  him 
with  a  conscious  feeling  of  his  criminality,  and  you 
make  him  burn  with  electric  fire.  A  convicted  man 
is  a  man  thoroughly  conscious ;  and  a  thoroughly  con 


THE   NECESSITY    OP   DIVINE    INFLUENCES.        133 

scious  man  is  a  deeply  moved  one.  And  this  is 
true,  with  emphasis,  of  the  conviction  of  sin.  This 
consciousness  produces  a  deeper  and  more  lasting 
effect  than  all  others.  Convince  a  community  of 
the  justice  or  injustice  of  a  certain  class  of  political 
principles,  and  you  stir  it  very  deeply,  and  broadly, 
as  the  history  of  all  democracies  clearly  shows ;  but 
let  society  be  once  convinced  of  sin  before  the  holy 
and  righteous  God,  and  deep  calleth  unto  deep, 
all  the  waters  are  moved.  Never  is  a  mass  of  hu- 
man beings  so  centrally  stirred,  as  when  the  Spirit 
of  God  is  poured  out  upon  it,  and  from  no  move- 
ment in  human  society  do  such  lasting  and  blessed 
consequences  flow,  as  from  a  genuine  revival  of  re- 
ligion. 

But  here  again,  as  in  reference  to  the  eternal  state, 
there  is  no  realizino;  sense.  Conviction  of  sin  is  not 
a  characteristic  of  mankind  at  large.  Men  gener- 
ally will  acknowledge  in  words  that  they  are  sinners, 
but  they  wait  for  some  ftir-distant  day  to  come, 
when  they  shall  be  pricked  in  the  heart,  and  feel  the 
truth  of  what  they  say.  Men  generally  are  not  con- 
scious of  the  dreadful  reality  of  sin,  any  more  than 
they  are  of  the  solemn  reality  of  eternity.  A  deep 
insensibility,  in  this  respect  also,  precludes  a  prac- 
tical knowledge  of  that  guilt  in  the  soul,  which,  if 
unpardcmed  and  unremovcd,  will  just  as  surely  ruin 
it  as  God  lives  and  the  soul  is  immortal.  Since, 
then,  if  man  be  left  to  his  own  inclination,  he  never 
will  be  convinced  of  sin,  it  is  plain  that  some  Agent 


134        THE   NECESSITY    OF   DIVIN^E   INELUEJSTCES. 

wlio  has  tlie  power  must  overcome  Lis  aversion  to 
self-knowledge,  and  bring  him  to  consciousness  upon 
ttis  unwelcome  subject.  If  any  one  of  us,  for  the 
remainder  of  our  days,  should  be  given  over  to  that 
ordinary  indifference  towards  sin  with  which  we 
walk  these  streets,  and  transact  business,  and  enjoy 
life ;  if  God's  truth  should  nev^er  again  in  this  world 
stab  the  conscience,  and  God's  Spirit  should  never 
again  make  us  anxious ;  is  it  not  infallibly  certain 
tliat  the  future  would  be  as  the  past,  and  that  we 
should  go  through  this  "accepted  time  and  day  of 
salvation"  unconvicted  and  therefore  unconvert- 
ed ? 

But  besides  this  destitution  of  tlie  experimental 
sense  of  sin,  another  ground  of  the  need  of  Divine 
agency  is  found  in  the  hlindness  of  the  natural 
mind.  Man's  vision  of  spiritual  things,  even  when 
they  are  set  before  his  eyes,  is  dim  and  inadequate 
The  Christian  ministry  is  greatly  hindered,  because  it 
cannot  illuminate  the  human  understanding,  and 
impart  the  power  of  a  keen  spiritual  insight.  It  is 
compelled  to  present  the  objects  of  sight,  but  it  can- 
not give  the  eye  to  see  them.  Vision  depends  alto- 
gether upon  the  condition  of  the  organ.  The  eye 
sees  only  what  it  brings  the  means  of  seeing. 
The  sealed  eye  of  a  worldling,  or  a  debauchee, 
or  a  self-righteous  man,  cannot  see  that  sin  of  the 
heart,  that  "spiritual  wickedness,"  at  which  men 
like  Paul  and  Isaiah  stood  aghast.  These  were  men 
whose  character  compared  with  that  of  the  world- 


TIIE   I^ECESSITT    OF    DIVINE   INFLUENCES.        ISo 

ling  was  saintly;  men  wliose  shoes'  latcliets  the 
worldling  is  not  worthy  to  stoop  down  and  unloose. 
And  3'et  they  saw  a  depravity  within  their  own 
hearts  which  he  does  not  see  in  his ;  a  depravity 
Avhich  he  cannot  see,  and  which  he  steadily  denies 
to  exist,  until  he  is  enlightened  by  the  Holy  Ghost. 
But  the  pi'eacher  has  no  power  to  impart  this  clear 
spiritual  discernment.  He  cannot  arm  the  eye  of 
the  natural  man  with  that  magnifying  and  micro- 
scopic power,  by  which  hatred,  shall  be  seen  to  be 
murder,  and  lust,  adultery,  and  the  least  swelling  of 
pride,  the  sin  of  Lucifer.  He  is  compelled,  by  the 
testimony  of  the  Bible,  of  the  wise  and  the  holy  of 
all  time,  and  of  his  own  consciousness,  to  tell  every 
unregenerate  man  that  he  is  no  better  than  his  race ; 
that  he  certainly  is  no  better  than  the  Christiau 
Church  which  continually  confesses  and  mourns 
over  indwelling  sin.  Tha  faithful  preacher  of  the 
word  is  oblii»:ed  to  insist  that  there  is  no  radical 
difference  among  men,  and  that  the  depravity  of  the 
man  of  irreproachable  morals  but  unrenewed  heart 
is  as  total  as  was  that  of  the  great  preacher  to  the 
Gentiles, — a  man  of  perfectly  irreproachable  morals, 
but  who  confessj]  Mi^t  he  was  the  chief  of  sinners, 
and  feared  lest  h  ;  should  be  a  cast-away.  But  the 
preacher  of  this  unwelcome  message  has  no  power 
to  open  the  blind  eye.  He  cannot  endow  the  self- 
ignorant  and  inci'e  lulous  man  before  him,  with  that 
consciousness  of  the  "plague  of  the  heart"  which 
says  "  yea"  to  the  most  vivid  description  of  human 


136        THE   NECESSITY    OF   DIVINE   USTFLUENCES. 

sinfalness,  and  "  amen  "  to  God's  heaviest  maledic- 
tion iij)on  it.  The  preacher's  position  would  be  far 
easier,  if  there  might  be  a  transfer  of  experience ;  if 
some  of  that  bitter  painful  sense  of  sin  with  which 
the  stru2:Q;lin2:  Christian  is  burdened  mio-ht  flow 
over  into  the  easy,  unvexed,  and  thoughtless  souls 
of  the  men  of  this  world.  Would  that  the  con- 
sciousness upon  this  subject  of  sin,  of  a  Paul  or  a 
Luther,  mio^ht  deluo:e  that  lai'sje  multitude  of  men 
who  doubt  or  deny  the  doctrine  of  human  deprav- 
ity. The  materials  for  that  consciousness,  the  items 
that  go  to  make  up  that  experience,  exist  as  really 
and  as  plentifully  in  your  moral  state  and  character, 
as  they  do  in  that  of  the  mourning  and  self-reproach- 
ing Christian  who  sits  by  your  side, — your  devout 
father,  your  saintly  mother,  or  sister, — whom  you 
know,  and  who  you  know  is  a  better  being  than  you 
are.  Why  should  they  be  weary  and  heavy-laden 
witli  a  sense  of  their  unworthiness  before  God,  and 
you  go  through  life  indifferent  and  light-liearted  ? 
Are  they  deluded  in  respect  to  the  doctrine  of  hu- 
man depravity,  and  are  you  in  the  right  ?  Think 
you  that  the  deathbed  and  the  day  of  judgment  will 
prove  this  to  be  the  fact  ?  No  !  if  you  shall  ever 
know  anything  of  the  Christian  struggle  with  innate 
corruption ;  if  you  shall  ever,  in  the  expressive 
phrase  of  Scripture,  have  your  senses  exercised  as  in 
a  gymnasium  ^  to  discern  good  and  evil,  and  see 

*  Td  aLaOijTtjpia  ■yeyv/ivaaueva.      Heb.  V.  14. 


THE   NECESSITY    OF    DIVmE    INFLUENCES.        137 

yourself  witli  self-aT)liorrence  ;  your  views  will  har- 
monize most  profoundly  and  exactly  with  theirs. 
And,  furthermore,  you  will  not  in  the  process  create 
any  neiu  sinfulness.  You  will  merely  see  the  exist- 
ing depravity  of  the  human  heart.  You  will  sim- 
ply see  what  is^ — is  now,  in  your  heart,  and  in  all 
human  hearts,  and  has  been  from  the  beginning. 

But  all  this  is  the  work  of  a  more  powerful  and 
spiritual  agency  than  that  of  man.  The  truth  may 
be  exhibited  with  perfect  transparency  and  plain- 
ness, the  hearer  himself  may  do  his  utmost  to  have 
it  penetrate  and  tell ;  and  yet,  there  be  no  vivid 
and  vital  consciousness  of  sin.  How  often  does 
the  serious  and  alarmed  man  say  to  us :  "  I  know 
it,  but  I  do  not  feel  it."  How  long  and  wearily, 
sometimes,  does  the  anxious  man  struggle  after  an 
inward  sense  of  these  spiritual  things,  without  suc- 
cess, until  he  learns  that  an  inward  sense,  an  experi- 
mental consciousness,  respecting  religious  truth,  is  as 
purely  a  gift  and  product  of  God  the  Spirit  as  the 
breath  of  life  in  his  nostrils.  Considering,  then, 
the  natural  apathy  of  man  respecting  the  sin  that 
is  in  his  own  heart,  and  the  exceeding  blindness  of 
his  mental  vision,  even  when  his  attention  has  been 
directed  to  it,  is  it  not  perfectly  plain  that  there 
must  be  the  exertion  of  a  Divine  agency,  in  order 
that  he  may  pass  through  even  the  first  and  lowest 
stages  of  the  religious  experience? 

In  view  of  the  subject,  as  thus  far  unfolded,  we 
remark : 


138        THE   NECESSITY    OF   DIVINE    INFLUENCES. 

1.  First,  that  it  is  the  duty  of  every  one,  to  take 
the  fact-^  in  respect  to  maris  character  as  he  finds 
them.     Nothing  is  gained,  in  any  province  of  human 
thought   or   action,  by    disputing   actual    verities. 
They  are  stuhl)orn   things,  and   will  not    yield  to 
the   wishes  and    prejudices  of  the  natural    heart. 
This  is  especially  ti'ue  in  regard  to  the  facts  in 
man's  moi*al  and   religious   condition.     The   testi- 
mony  of  Revelation  is  explicit,  that  "  the   carnal 
mind  is  enmity  against  God,  for  it  is  not  subject  to 
the  law  of  God,  neither  indeed  can  be  ;  "  and  also, 
that  "  the  natural  man  receiveth  not  the  things  of 
the  Spirit,  neither  can  he  know  them,  because  they 
are  spiritually  discerned."     According  to  this  Bibli- 
cal statement,  thei'e    is   corruption    and    blindness 
together.     The  human  heart  is  at  once  sinful,  and 
ignorant  that   it   is  so.     It   is,  therefore,  the  veiy 
worst    form   of    evil;    a   fatal    disease    unknown 
to  the  patient,  and    accompanied  with    the   belief 
that  there  is  perfect  health ;  sin  and  guilt    with- 
out any  just  and  proper  sense  of  it.     This  is  the 
testimony,  and  the  assertion,  of  that  Being  who 
needs  not  that  any  should  testify  to  Him  of  man, 
for  he  knows  what  is  in  man.     And  this  is  the 
testimony,  also,  of  every  mind  that  has  attained  a 
profound  self-knowledge.     For  it  is   indisputable, 
that  in  propoi-tion  as  a  man.  is  introspective,  and 
accustoms  himself  to  the  scrutiny  of  his  motives 
and  feelings,  he  discovers  that  "  the  whole  head  is 
sick,  and  the  whole  heart  is  faint." 


THE   NECESSITY  OF   DIVLNE    INFLUENCES.         139 

It  is,  tLcreforo,  tlie  duty  and  wisdom  of  every 
one  to  set  to  his  seal  tliat  God  is  true, — to  have 
this  as  his  motto.  Though,  as  yet,  he  is  destitute 
of  a  clear  conviction  of  sin,  and  a  godly  sorrow  for 
it,  still  he  should  ])resume  the  fact  of  human  de- 
pravity. Good  men  in  every  age  have  found  it  to  be 
a  fact,  and  the  infallihle  Word  of  God  declares  that 
it  is  a  fact.  What,  then,  is  gained,  by  proposing 
another  than  the  Biblical  theoiy  of  human  nature  ? 
Is  the  evil  removed  by  denying  its  existence  ?  Will 
the  mere  calling  men  good  at  heart,  and  by  nature 
make  them  such  ? 

"  Who  can  hold  a  fire  in  his  hand, 
By  thinking  on  the  frosty  Caucasus? 
Or  chjy  tlie  hungry  edge  of  appetite, 
By  bare  imagination  of  a  feast? 
Or  wallow  naked  in  December  snow, 
By  thinking  on  fantastic  summer  heat?"  ' 

2.  In  the  second  place,  we  remark  that  it  is  the 
duty  of  every  one,  not  to  he  discouraged  hy  these  facts 
and  truths  relative  to  the  moral  condition  of  man. 
For,  one  fact  conducts  to  the  next  one.  One  truth 
prepares  for  a  second.  If  it  is  a  solemn  and  sad 
fact  that  men  are  sinners,  and  blind  and  dead  in 
their  trespasses  and  sin,  it  is  also  a  cheering  fjict 
that  the  Holy  Spirit  can  enlighten  the  darkest 
understanding,  and  enliven  the  most  torpid  and 
indifferent  soul ;  and  it  is  a  still  further,  and  most 
encouraging  truth  and  fact,  that  the  Holy  Spirit  ia 

'  SiiAKsrEAUK:  Richard  II.  Act  i.  So.  3. 


140        THE   NECESSITY    OF   DIVINE   INTLUENCES. 

given  to  tbose  wlio  ask  for  it,  with  more  readiness 
than  a  father  gives  bread  to  his  hungry  chiki 
Here,  then,  we  have  the  fact  of  sin,  and  of  blindness 
and  apathy  in  sin ;  the  fact  of  a  mighty  power  in 
God  to  convince  of  sin,  of  righteousness,  and  of 
judgment ;  and  the  blessed  fact  that  this  power  is 
accessible  to  prayer.  Let  us  put  these  three  facts 
together,  all  of  them,  and  act  accordingly.  Then 
we  shall  be  taught  by  the  Spirit,  and  shall  come  to 
a  salutary  consciousness  of  sin ;  and  then  shall 
be  ve^^ilied  in  our  own  experience  the  words  of 
God:  "I  dwell  in  the  high  and  holy  place,  and 
with  him  also  that  is  of  a  contrite  and  humble  spirit, 
to  revive  the  spirit  of  the  humble,  and  to  revive 
the  heart  of  the  contrite  ones." 


THE  NECESSITY  OF  DIVIITE  INFLUENCES. 


LxjKE  xi.  13. — "If  ye,  then,  being  evil,  know  how  to  give  good  gifts  nnto 
your  children ;  how  much  more  shall  your  heavenly  Father  give  the  Hoiy 
Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him." 


In  expounding  the  doctrine  of  these  words,  in 
tlie  preceding  discourse,  the  argument  for  the  neces- 
sity of  Divine  influences  had  reference  to  the  more 
general  aspects  of  man's  character  and  condition. 
We  were  concerned  with  the  origin  of  seriousness 
in  view  of  a  future  life,  and  the  production  of  a  sense 
of  moi'al  corruption  and  imfitness  to  enter  eternity. 
We  have  now  to  consider  the  work  of  the  Sjui'it,  in 
its  relations,  first,  to  tliat  more  distinct  sense  of  sin 
which  is  denominated  the  consciousness  of  ^^///^,  and 
secondly,  to  that  saving  act  of  faith  by  which  the 
atonement  of  Christ  is  appropriated  by  the  soul. 

I.  Sin  is  not  man's  misfoi'tune,  but  his  fault ;  and 
any  view  that  falls  short  of  this  fact  is  radically 
defective.  Sin  not  only  brings  a  corruption  and 
bondage,  but  also  a  condemnation  and  penalty,  upon 
the  self-will  that  originates  it.  Sin  not  only  ren- 
ders man  unfit  for  rewards,  but  also  deserving  of 
punishment.     As  one  who  has  disobeyed  law  of  his 


143        THE   NECESSETY    OF   DIVINE    INFLUENCES. 

own  determination,  he  is  liable  not  merely  to  tlie 
negative  loss  of  blessings,  but  also  to  the  positive 
infliction  of  retribution.  It  is  not  enough  that  a 
transgressor  be  merely  let  alone ;  he  must  be  taken 
in  hand  and  punished.  He  is  not  simply  a  diseased 
man  ;  he  is  a  criminal.  His  sin,  therefore,  requires 
not  a  removal  merely,  but  also  an  expiation. 

This  relation  and  reference  of  transgression  to  law 
and  justice  is  a  fundamental  one;  and  yet  it  is  very 
liable  to  be  overlooked,  or  at  least  to  be  inadequate- 
ly appieli ended.  The  sense  of  ill-desert  is  too  apt  to 
be  confused  and  shallow,  in  the  human  soul.  Man 
is  comparatively  ready  to  acknowledge  the  misery 
of  sin,  while  he  is  slow  to  confess  the  guilt  of  it. 
When  the  word  of  God  asserts  he  is  poor,  and  blind, 
and  wretched,  he  is  comparatively  forward  to  assent ; 
but  when,  in  addition,  it  asserts  that  he  deserves 
to  be  punished  everlastingly,  he  reluctates.  Man- 
kind are  willins;  to  acknowledo;e  their  wretched- 
ness,  and  be  pitied ;  but  they  are  not  willing  to 
acknowledge  their  guiltiness,  and  stand  condemned 
befoi'e  law. 

And  yet,  guilt  is  the  very  essence  of  sin  Extin- 
guish the  criminality,  and  you  extinguish  the  in- 
most core  and  heart  of  moral  evil.  We  may  liave 
felt  that  sin  is  bondage,  that  it  is  inward  dissension 
and  disharmony,  that  it  takes  away  the  true  dig- 
nity of  our  nature,  but  if  we  have  not  also  felt  that  it 
is  iniquity  and  merits  penalty,  we  have  not  become 
conscious  of  its  most  essential  quality.     It  is  not 


THE   NECESSITY    OF   DWINE    INFLUENCES.        143 

enongli  that  we  come  before  Gocl,  saying :  "  I  am 
wretched  in  my  soul ;  I  am  weary  of  my  bondage ; 
I  long  for  deliverance."  We  must  also  say,  as  we 
look  up  into  that  holy  Eye :  "  I  am  guilty ;  O  my 
God  I  deserve  thy  judgments."  In  brief,  the  hu- 
man mind  must  recognize  all  the  Divine  attributes. 
The  entire  Divine  character,  in  both  its  justice  and 
its  love,  must  rise  full-orbed  before  the  soul,  when 
thus  seeking  salvation.  It  is  not  enough,  that  we 
ask  God  to  free  us  from  disquietude,  and  give  us 
repose.  Before  we  do  this,  and  that  we  may  do  it 
successfully,  we  must  employ  the  language  of  David, 
while  under  the  stings  of  guilt :  "  O  Lord  rebuke 
me  not  in  thy  wrath :  neither  chasten  me  in  tliy 
hot  displeasure.  Be  merciful  unto  me,  O  God  be 
merciful  unto  me." 

What  is  needed  is,  more  consideration  of  sin 
in  its  objective,  and  less  in  its  subjective  rela- 
tions ;  more  sense  of  it  in  its  refei'ence  to  the  be 
ing  and  attributes  of  God,  and  less  sense  of  it 
in  its  reference  to  our  own  happiness  or  misery, 
or  even  to  the  harmony  of  our  own  powers 
and  faculties.  The  adorable  beins;  and  attri- 
butes  of  God  are  of  more  importance  tliau  any 
human  soul,  immortal  though  it  be;  and  what  is 
required  in  the  religious  experience  is,  more  anxiety 
lest  the  Divine  glory  should  be  tarnished,  and  less 
fear  that  a  worm  of  the  dust  be  made  miserable  by 
his  transgressions.  And  whatever  may  be  our  the- 
ory of  the  matter,  "to  this  complexion  must  we 


144        THE    NECESSITY    OF   DIVIl^E    INFLUENCES. 

come  at  last,"  even  in  order  to  our  o^^^l  peace  of 
mind.  We  must  lose  our  life,  in  order  to  find  it. 
Even  in  order  to  our  own  inward  repose  of  con- 
science and  of  heart,  there  must  come  a  point  and 
period  in  our  mental  history,  when  we  do  actually 
sink  self  out  of  sig^ht,  and  think  of  sin  in  its  relation 
to  the  character  and  government  of  the  great  and 
holy  God, — when  we  do  see  it  to  be  guilty  as  well 
as  corruption. 

For  guilt  is  a  distinct,  and  a  distinguishable  qual- 
ity. It  is  a  thing  by  itself,  like  the  Platonic  idea 
of  Beauty.^  It  is  sin  stripped  of  its  accompani- 
ments,— the  restlessness,  the  dissatisfiiction,  and  the 
unhappiness  which  it  produces, — and  perceived  in 
its  pure  odiousness  and  ill-desert.  And  when  thus 
seen,  it  does  not  permit  the  mind  to  think  of  any 
thing  but  the  righteous  law,  and  the  Divine  char- 
acter. In  the  hour  of  thorouo^h  conviction,  the  sin- 
ful  spirit  is  lost  in  the  feeling  of  guiltiness:  wholly 
engrossed  in  the  reflection  that  it  has  incurred  the 
condemnation  of  the  Best  Beino;  in  the  universe. 
It  is  in  distress,  not  because  an  Almighty  Being  can 
make  it  miserable  but,  because  a  Holy  and  Good 
Being  has  reason  to  be  displeased  with  it.  When 
it  gives  utterance  to  its  emotion,  it  says  to  its  Sov- 
ereio-n  and  its  Judo-e:  "I  am  in  anojuish,  more 
because  Thou  the  Holy  and  the  Good  art  unrecon- 
ciled with  me,  than  because  Thou  the  Omnipotent 

'  'AiTo,  K(ii9^'  avTo,  /lE^'  avTov,  uovosiSe^. — Plato  :   Conviviuin,  p.  247, 
Ed.  Bipont. 


TlIE    NECESSITY    OF    DIVINE    INFLUENCES.        145 

canst  pnnisli  me  forever.  I  refuse  not  to  be  pun- 
ished ;  I  deserv^e  the  inillctiousof  Thy  justice  ;  only 
forgive^  and  Thou  mayest  do  what  Thou  wilt  unto 
me."  A  soul  that  is  truly  penitent  has  no  desire 
to  e^capa  penalty,  at  the  expense  of  principle  and. 
law.  It  says  with  David:  "Thou  desirest  not  sac- 
rifice;'' sucli  atonement  as  I  can  make  is  inade- 
quate; "else  would  I  give  it."  It  expresses  its 
aj)probation  of  the  pure  justice  of  God,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  gentlest  and  sweetest  of  Mystics  : 

"  Thou  hiist  no  liglitiiiiigs,  0  Thou  Justl 
Or  I  tlieir  force  should  know ; 
And  if  Thon  strike  nie  into  dust, 
My  soul  approves  the  blow. 

The  heart  that  values  less  its  easo, 
Than  it  adores  Thy  ways, 
In  Thine  avenging  anger,  sees 
A  subject  of  its  praise. 

Pleased  I  could  lie,  concealed  and  lost, 
In  sliades  of  central  night ; 
Not  to  avoid  Thy  wrath.  Thou  know'at, 
But  lest  I  grieve  Thy  sight. 

Smite  me,  O  Thou  whom  I  provoke  I 
And  I  will  love  Thee  still  ; 
The  well  deserved  and  righteous  stroke 
Shall  please  me,  though  it  kill."  ' 

NoAV,  it  is  only  when   the  human  spirit  is  under 
the  illuminating,  and  discriminating  influences  of  the 

'  GiTYo\:  translated  by  CnwTKR,     is   expressed    by    Vaugiian    ia 
Works  HI.  85.— A  similar  tliouglit     "  The  Eclii«se." 

"Thy  anger  I  could  kiss,  and  will  ; 
But  O  Thy  grief,  Thy  grief  doth  kill." 


146        THE   NECESSITY    OP   DIVINE   INFLFENCES, 

Holy  Ghost,  that  it  possesses  this  pure  and  genuine 
sense  of  guilt.  Worldly  losses,  trials,  \^arnings  by 
God's  providence,  may  rouse  the  sinner,  and  make 
him  solemn  ;  but  unless  the  Spirit  of  Grace  enters 
his  heart  he  does  not  feel  that  he  is  ill-deservingf. 
He  is  sad  and  fearful,  respecting  the  future  life,  and 
perhaps  supposes  that  this  state  of  mind  is  one  of 
true  conviction,  and  wonders  that  it  does  not  end  in 
conversion,  and  the  joy  of  pardon.  But  if  he  would 
examine  it,  he  would  discover  that  it  is  full  of  the 
lust  of  self  He  would  find  that  he  is  merely  unhap- 
py, and  restless,  and  afraid  to  die.  If  he  should  ex- 
amine the  workings  of  his  heart,  he  would  discover 
that  they  are  only  another  form  of  self-love;  that 
instead  of  being  anxious  about  self  in  the  jDresent 
world,  he  has  become  anxious  about  self  in  the  fu- 
ture world  ;  that  instead  of  looking  out  for  his 
happiness  here,  he  has  begun  to  look  out  for  it  here- 
after ;  that  m  fact  he  has  merely  transferred  sin,  from 
time  and  its  relations,  to  eternity  and  its  relations. 
Such  sorrow  as  this  needs  to  be  sorrowed  for,  and 
such  repentance  as  this  needs  to  be  repented  of. 
Such  conviction  as  this  needs  to  be  laid  open,  and 
have  its  defect  shown.  After  a  course  of  wrong- 
doing, it  is  not  sufficient  for  man  to  come  before  the 
Holy  One,  making  mention  of  his  wretchedness, 
and  desire  for  happiness,  but  making  no  mention  of 
his  culpaVnlity,  and  desert  of  righteous  and  holy 
judgments.  It  is  not  enough  for  the  criminal  to 
plead  for  life,  however  earnestly,  while  he  avoids 


THE    NECESSITY    OF    DIYINE   INFLUElSrCES.        147 

the  ncknowledgraent  tliat  death  is  his  just  due. 
For  silence  in  such  a  connection  as  this,  is  denial. 
The  impenitent  tliief  upon  the  cross  was  clamorous 
for  life  and  happiness,  saying,  "If  thou  be  the  Christ, 
save  thyself  and  us."  He  said  nothing  concerning 
the  crime  that  had  brou2:ht  him  to  a  malefactor's 
death,  and  thereby  showed  that  it  did  not  weigh 
heavy  upon  his  conscience.  But  the  real  penitent 
rebuked  him,  saying:  "  Dost  thou  not  fear  God,  see- 
ing thou  art  in  the  same  condemnation  ?  And  we 
indeed  justly ;  for  we  receive  the  due  reward  of  our 
deeds."  And  then  followed  that  meek  and  broken- 
hearted supplication  :  "  Lord  remember  me,"  wliich 
drew  forth  the  world-renowned  answer:  "This  day 
shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  paradise." 

In  the  fact,  then,  that  man's  experience  of  sin  is 
so  liable  to  be  defective  upon  the  side  of  guilt,  we 
find  another  necessity  for  the  teaching  of  the  Holy 
Spirit;  for  a  spiritual  agency  that  cannot  be  de- 
ceived, which  ])ierces  to  the  dividing  asunder  of  the 
soul  and  spirit,  and  is  a  disceruer  of  the  real  intent 
and  feeling  of  the  heart. 

II.  In  the  second  place,  man  needs  the  influences 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  in  order  i]i2it  he  may  actually  ap- 
pro}})'late  Chriisfs  afonement  for  sin. 

The  feeling  of  ill-desert,  of  which  we  have  spo- 
ken, requires  an  expiation,  in  order  to  its  extinction, 
precisely  as  the  burning  sensation  of  thirst  needs  the 
cnp  of  cold  Avatei',  in  order  that  it  may  be  allayed. 
When  the  sense  of  guilt  is  awakened  in  its   pure 


148        THE   NECESSITY    0^   DIVINE   USTFLUENCES. 

and  genuine  form,  hj  the  Holy  Spirit's  operation, 
tlie  soul  craves  the  atonement, — it  wcmts  the  dying 
Lamb  of  God.  We  often  speak  of  a  believer's 
longings  after  purity,  after  peace,  after  joy.  There 
is  an  appetency  for  them.  In  like  manner,  there  is 
in  the  illuminated  and  guilt-smitten  conscience  an 
appetency  for  the  piacular  work  of  Christ,  as  that 
which  alone  can  give  it  pacification.  Contemplated 
from  this  point  of  view,there  is  not  a  more  rational 
doctrine  within  the  whole  Christian  system,  than 
that  of  the  Atonement.  Anything  that  ministers 
to  a  distinct  and  legitimate  craving  in  man  is  rea- 
sonable, and  necessary.  That  theorist,  therefore, 
who  would  evince  the  unreasonableness  of  the  aton- 
ing work  of  the  Redeemer,  must  fi;st  evince  theun- 
reasonaldeness  of  the  consciousness  of  guilt,  and  of 
the  judicial  craving  of  the  conscience.  He  must 
show  the  groundlessness  of  that  fundamental  and  or- 
ganic feeling  which  imparts  such  a  blood-red  color 
to  all  the  religions  of  the  globe ;  be  they  Pagan, 
Jewish,  or  Christian.  Whenever,  therefore,  this 
sensation  of  ill-desert  is  elicited,  and  tlie  soul  feels 
consciously  criminal  before  the  Everlasting  Judge, 
the  difficulties  that  beset  the  doctrine  of  the  Cross 
all  vanish  in  the  craving,  m  the  ajypetenc^,  of  the 
conscience,  for  acquittal  through  the  substituted  suf- 
ferin2:s  of  the  Son  of  God.  He  who  has  been 
taught  by  the  Spirit  respecting  the  iniquity  of  sin, 
and  views  it  in  its  relations  to  the  Divine  holiness, 
has  no  wish  to  be  pardoned  at  the  expense  of  jus- 


THE   NECESSITY    OF   DIVINE   mFLUENCES.        149 

tice.  His  conscience  is  now  jealous  for  the  majesty 
of  God,  and  the  dignity  of  His  government.  He 
now  experimentally  understands  that  great  truth 
which  lias  its  foundation  in  the  nature  of  guilt,  and 
consequently  in  the  method  of  Redemption, — the 
gi"eat  ethical  truth,  that  after  an  accountable  agent 
has  stained  himself  with  crime,  there  is  from  the  ne- 
cessity of  the  case  no  remission  without  the  satis- 
faction of  law. 

But  it  is  one  thing  to  acknowledge  this  in  theory, 
and  even  to  feel  the  need  of  Christ's  atonement,  and 
still  another  thing  to  really  appropriate  it.  Unbe- 
lief and  despair  have  great  power  over  a  guilt- 
stricken  mind  ;  and  were  it  not  for  that  Spirit  who 
"  takes  of  the  things  of  Christ  and  shows  them  to 
the  soul,"  sinful  man  would  in  every  instance  suc- 
cumb under  their  awful  paralysis.  For,  if  the  truth 
and  Spirit  of  God  should  merely  convince  the  sin- 
ner of  his  guilt,  but  never  apply  the  atoning  blood 
of  the  Redeemer,  hell  would  be  in  him  and  he  would 
be  in  hell.  If  God,  coming  forth  as  He  justly  might 
only  in  His  judicial  character,  should  confine  Him- 
self to  a  convicting  operation  in  the  conscience, — 
should  make  the  transgressor  feel  his  guilt,  and  then 
leave  him  to  the  feeling  and  with  the  feeling,  for- 
evermore,— this  would  be  eternal  death.  And  if, 
as  any  man  shall  lie  down  upon  his  death-bed,  lie 
shall  find  that  owing  to  his  past  quenching  of  the 
Spirit  the  illuminating  energy  of  God  is  searching 
him,  and  revealing  him  to  himself,  but  does  not  as- 


150        THE   NECESSITY   OF   DIVIKE   INFLUENCES. 

sist  him  to  look  up  to  the  Saviour  of  sinners ;  and 
if,  in  the  clay  of  judgment,  as  lie  draws  near  the  bar 
of  an  eternal  doom,  he  shall  discover  that  the  sense 
of  guilt  grows  deeper  and  deeper,  wliile  the  atoning 
l)]ood  is  not  applied, — if  this  shall  be  the  experi- 
ence of  any  one  upon  his  death-bed,  and  in  the  day 
of  judgment,  will  he  need  to  be  told  what  he  is 
and  whither  he  is  going? 

Now  it  is  witli  reference  to  these  disclosures  that 
come  in  like  a  deluge  upon  him,  that  man  needs  the 
aids  and  operation  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Ordinarily, 
nearly  the  whole  of  his  guilt  is  latent  within  him. 
He  is,  commonly,  undisturbed  by  conscience;  but 
it  would  be  a  fatal  error  to  infer  that  therefore  he 
has  a  clear  and  innocent  conscience.  There  is 
a  vast  amount  of  undeveloped  guilt  within  every 
impenitent  soul.  It  is  slumbering  there,  as  surely 
as  mao-netism  is  in  the  mag-net,  and  the  electric 
fluid  is  in  the  j^iled-up  thunder-cloud.  For  there 
are  moments  when  the  sinful  soul  feels  this  hid- 
den criminality,  as  there  are  moments  when  the 
magnet  shows  its  power,  and  the  thunder-cloud 
darts  its  nimble  and  forked  lightnings.  Else,  why 
do  these  pangs  and  fears  shoot  and  flash  through  it, 
every  now  and  then  ?  Why  does  the  drowning  man 
instinctively  ask  for  God's  mercy  ?  Were  his  con- 
science pure  and  clear  from  guilt,  like  that  of  the 
angel  or  the  seraph, — were  thei-e  no  latent  crime 
within  him, — he  would  sink  into  the  uufathomed 
depths  of  the  sea,  without  the  thought  of  such  a  cry. 


THE   NECESSITY    OF    DIVINE   INFLUENCES.        151 

Wlien  tlie  traveller  in  South  America  sees  the 
smoke  and  ilame  of  the  volcano.,  here  and  there,  as 
he  passes  along,  he  is  justified  in  inferring  that  a 
vast  central  fire  is  burning  l»eneath  the  whole  re- 
gion. In  like  manner,  when  man  discovers,  as  he 
watches  the  phenomena  of  his  conscience,  that  guilt 
every  now  and  then  emerges  like  a  flash  of  flame 
into  consciousness,  filling  him  with  fear  and  dis- 
tress^, — when  he  finds  that  he  has  no  security  against 
this  invasion,  T)ut  that  in  an  hour  when  he  thinks 
not,  and  commonly  when  he  is  weakest  and  faintest, 
in  his  moments  of  dano-er  or  death,  it  stinii^s  him  and 
wounds  him,  he  is  justified  in  inferring,  and  he  must 
infer,  that  the  deep  places  of  his  spirit,  the  whole 
IJotentialitij  of  his  soul  is  full  of  crime. 

Now,  in  no  condition  of  the  soul  is  there  greater 
need  of  the  agency  of  the  Comforter  (O  well  named 
the  Comforter),  than  when  all  this  latency  is  suddenly 
manifested  to  a  man.  When  this  deluge  of  discov- 
ery comes  in,  all  the  billows  of  doubt,  fear,  terror, 
and  despair  roll  over  the  soul,  and  it  sinks  in  the 
deep  waters.  The  sense  of  guilt, — that  awful  guilt, 
which  the  man  has  carried  about  with  him  for  many 
long  years,  and  which  he  has  trifled  with, — now 
proves  too  great  for  him  to  control.  It  seizes  him 
like  a  strong  armed  man.  If  he  could  only  believe 
that  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  of  God  expiates  all 
this  crime  which  is  so  appalling  to  his  mind,  he 
Would  be  at  peace  instantaneously.  But  he  is  unable 
to  believe  this.     His  sin,  which  heretofore  looked 


152        THE   KECE3SITY    OF   DIVINE   INFLUENCES. 

too  small  to  be  noticed,  now  appears  too  great  to 
be  forgiven.  Other  men  may  l)e  pardoned,  but  not 
he.  He  despairs  of  mercy  ;  and  if  he  should,  be  left 
to  the  natural  working's  of  his  own  min:l :  if  he 
should  not  be  taught  and  assisted  by  the  Holy 
Ghost,  in  this  critical  moment,  to  behold  the  Lamb  of 
God  ;  he  would  despair  forever.  For  this  sense  of  ill- 
desert,  this  fearful  looking-for  of  judgment  and  fiery 
indi2:nation,  with  which  he  is  wrestling:,  is  or2:anic 
to  the  conscience,  and  the  human  will  has  no  more 
power  over  it  than  it  has  over  the  sympathetic  nerve. 
Only  as  he  is  taught  by  the  Divine  Spirit,  is  he  able 
with  perfect  calmness  to  look  up  from  this  brink  of 
despair,  and  say  :  "  There  is  no  condemnation  to 
them  that  are  in  Christ  Jesus.  The  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ  cleanseth  from  all  sin.  Therefore,  being  jus- 
tified by  faith  we  hav^e  peace  with  God  through  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  I  know  whom  I  have  be- 
lieved, and  am  persuaded  that  he  is  able  to  keep 
that  which  I  have  committed  unto  him  against  that 
day." 

In  view  of  the  truths  which  we  have  now  consid- 
ered, it  is  worthy  of  observation  : 

1.  First,  that  tlie  Holy  Spirit  constitutes  the  tie, 
and  bond  of  connection,  hetioeeninan  and  God.  The 
third  Person  in  the  Godhead  is  very  often  regarded 
as  raoi-e  distant  from  the  human  soul,  than  either 
the  Father  or  the  Son.  In  the  history  of  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Trinity,  the  definition  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
and  the  discrimination  of  His  relations  in  the  econ- 


THE   NECESSITY    OF   DIVINE    INFLUENCES.        153 

oniy  of  tlie  Godhead,  was  not  settled  until  after  tlie 
doctrine  of  the  first  and  second  Persons  had  been 
established.  Soaietliiiig  analogous  to  tliis  appears 
in  the  individual  experience.  God  the  Father  and 
God  the  Son  are  more  in  the  thoughts  of  many  be- 
lievers, than  God  the  Holy  Ghost.  And  yet,  we 
have  seen  that  in  the  economy  of  Redemption,  and 
from  the  very  nature  of  the  case,  the  soul  is  brought 
as  close  to  the  Spirit,  as  to  the  Father  and  Son. 
Nay,  it  is  only  through  the  inward  operations  of 
the  former,  that  the  latter  are  made  real  to  the  heart 
and  mind  of  man.  Not  until  the  third  Person  en- 
lightens, are  the  second  and  first  Persons  beheld. 
"No  man,"  says  St.  Paul,  "can- say  that  Jesus  is  the 
Lord,  but  by  the  Holy  Ghost." 

The  sinful  soul  is  entirely  dependent  upon  tlie 
Divine  Spirit,  and  from  first  to  last  it  is  in  most  in- 
timate communication  with  Him  during  the  process 
of  salvation.  It  is  enlightened  by  His  influence ; 
it  is  enlivened  by  Him ;  it  is  empowered  by  Him 
to  the  act  of  faith  in  Christ's  Person  and  Work ;  it 
is  supported  and  assisted  by  Him,  in  every  step  of 
the  Christian  race ;  it  is  comforted  by  Him  in  all 
trials  and  tribulations ;  and,  lastly,  it  is  perfected 
in  holiness,  and  fitted  for  the  immediate  presence 
of  God,  l)y  Him.  Certainly,  then,  the  believer 
should  have  as  full  faith  in  the  distinct  personality, 
and  immediate  efficiency,  of  the  third  Person,  as  he 
has  in  that  of  the  first  and  second.  His  most  affec- 
tionate  feeling    should   centre   upon  that  Blessed 


154        THE   NECESSITY   OF   DIVIl^E   INFLUEI^^'CES. 

Agent,  througli  whom  lie  appropriates  the  blessings 
that  have  been  provided  for  sinners  by  the  Father 
and  Son,  and  without  whose  influence  the  Father 
would  have  planned  the  Redemptive  scheme,  and 
the  Son  have  executed  it,  in  vain. 

2.  In  the  second  place,  it  is  deserving  of  very 
careful  notice  that  the  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
may  he  obtained  hy  ashing  for  them.  This  is  the 
only  condition  to  be  complied  with.  And  this  gift, 
furthermore,  is  peculiar,  in  that  it  is  invariably  be- 
stowed whenever  it  is  sincerely  implored.  There 
are  other  gifts  of  God  which  may  be  asked  for  with 
deep  and  agonizing  desire,  and  it  is  not  certain  that 
they  will  be  granted.  This  is  the  case  with  tem- 
poral blessings.  A  sick  man  may  turn  his  face  to 
the  wall,  with  Hezekiah,  and  pray  in  the  bitterness 
of  his  soul,  for  the  prolongation  of  his  life,  and  yet 
not  ol)tain  the  answer  which  Hezekiah  received. 
But  no  man  ever  supplicated  in  the  earnestness  of 
his  soul  for  the  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and 
was  ultimately  refused.  For  this  is  a  gift  which  it 
is  always  safe  to  grant.  It  involves  a  spiritual  and 
everlastino;  o-ood.  It  is  the  <2;ift  of  rio-hteousness, 
of  the  fear  and  love  of  God  in  the  heart.  There  is 
no  danger  in  such  a  bestowment.  It  inevitably 
j)romotes  the  glory  of  God.  Hence  our  Lord, 
after  bidding  his  hearers  to  "  ask,"  to  "  seek,"  and 
to  "  knock,"  adds,  as  the  encouraging  reason  Avhy 
they  should  do  so :  "  For,  every  ons  that  asketh 
receiveth ;  and  he  that  seeketh,  [always]  findeth  ; 


THE   NECESSITY   OF   DIVINE    INFLUENCES.        155 

and  to  liiin  that  knocketh,  it  shall  [certainly] 
be  opened."  This  is  a  reason  that  cannot  be  as- 
sig-ned  in  the  instance  of  other  prayers.  Onr  Lord 
commands  his  disciples  to  pray  for  their  daily 
bread  ;  and  we  kno\y  that  the  children  of  God  do 
generally  find  their  wants  supplied.  Still,  it  would 
not  be  true  that  every  one  \vho  in  the  sincerity  of 
his  soul  has  asked  for  daily  bread  has  received  it. 
The  children  of  God  have  sometimes  died  of  hun- 
c:er.     But  no  soul  that  has  ever  hung-ered  for  the 

o  CD 

bread  of  heaven,  and  supplicated  for  it,  has  been 
sent  empty  away.  Nay  more :  Whoever  finds  it  in 
his  heart  to  ask  for  the  Holy  Spirit  may  know, 
from  this  very  fact,  that  the  Holy  Spirit  has  antici- 
pated him,  and  has  prompted  the  very  prayer  itself. 
And  think  you  that  God  will  not  grant  a  request 
which  He  himself  has  inspired  ?  And  therefore, 
again,  it  is,  that  every  one  who  asks  invariably  re- 
ceives. 

8.  The  third  remark  suggested  by  the  subject  we 
have  been  considering  is,  that  it  is  exceedlnrjly  haz- 
ardous to  resist  Dlome  hijliiences.  "  Quench  not 
the  Spirit"  is  one  of  the  most  imperative  of  the 
Apostolic  injunctions.  Our  Lord,  after  saying  that 
a  word  spoken  against  Himself  is  pardonable,  adds, 
that  he  that  blasphsmes  against,  the  Holy  Ghost 
shall  never  be  forgiven,  neither  in  this  world  nor 
in  the  world  to  come.  The  New  Testament  sur- 
rounds the  subject  of  Divine  influences  with  very 
great  solemnity.     It  represents  the  resisting  of  the 


156        THE    NECESSITY    OF   DIVINE   INFLUENCES. 

Holy  Ghost  to  be  as  lieiuous,  and  dangerous,  as  ttie 
trampling  upon  Christ's  blood. 

There  is  a  reason  for  this.  We  have  seen  that  in 
this  operation  upon  the  mind  and  heart,  God  comes 
as  near,  and  as  close  to  man,  as  it  is  possible  for 
Him  to  come.  Now  to  grieve  or  oppose  such  a 
merciful,  and  such  an  inwcwcl  agency  as  this,  is  to 
offer  the  highest  possible  affront  to  the  majesty 
and  the  mercy  of  God.  It  is  a  great  sin  to  slight 
the  gifts  of  Divine  providence, — to  misuse  health, 
strength,  wealth,  talents.  It  is  a  deep  sin  to  con- 
temn the  truths  of  Divine  Revelation,  by  which  the 
soul  is  made  wise  unto  eternal  life.  It  is  a  fearful 
sin  to  despise  the  claims  of  God  the  Father,  and 
God  the  Son.  But  it  is  a  transcendent  sin  to  re- 
sist and  beat  back,  after  it  has  been  glven^  that  mys- 
terious, that  holy,  that  immediately  Divine  influ- 
ence, l)y  which  alone  the  heart  of  stone  can  be 
made  the  heart  of  flesh.  For,  it  indicates  some- 
thing more  than  the  ordinary  carelessness  of  a  sin- 
ner. It  evinces  a  determined  obstinacy  in  sin, — 
nay,  a  Satanic  opposition  to  God  and  goodness. 
It  is  of  such  a  guilt  as  'this,  that  the  apostle  John 
remarks :  "  There  is  a  sin  unto  death ;  I  do  not 
say  that  one  should  pray  for  it."  ^ 

'  The    sin    ajz;ainst    the    Holy  the  tliircl  Person   of  the  Trinity 

Ghost   is  unpardonable,   not  be-  which  is  the  only  power  adequate 

cause  there  is  a  grade  of  guilt  in  to  tlie  extirpation  of  sin  from  tlie 

it  too  scarlet  to  Ije  washed  wliite  human  soul.     The  sin  against  the 

by   Christ's  blood  of  atonement  Holy  Ghost  is  tantamount,  there- 

but,   because    it   implies   a  total  fore,  to   everlasting  sin.     And  it 

quenching  of  that  operation  of  is  noteworthy,  that  in  Mark  iii. 


THE   KECESSITY    OF    DIVINE    INFLUENCES.        157 

Again,  it  is  exceedingly  hazardous  to  resist  Divine 
influences,  because  they  depend  wholly  upon  the 
good  2^1easure  of  God,  and  not  at  all  upon  any  es- 
tablished and  uniform  law.  We  must  not,  for  a 
moment,  suppose  that  the  operations  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  upon  the  liuman  soul  are  like  those  of  tlie 
forces  of  nature  upon  the  molecules  of  matter.  They 
are  not  uniform  and  unintermittent,  like  gravitation 
and  chemical  affinity.  We  may  avail  ourselves  of 
the  powers  of  nature  at  any  moment,  because  they 
are  steadily  operative  by  an  established  law.  They 
are  laboring  incessantly,  and  we  may  enter  into 
their  labors  at  any  instant  we  please.  But  it  is  not 
so  with  supernatural  and  gracious  influences.  God's 
awakening  and  renewing  power  does  not  operate 
with  the  uniformity  of  those  blind  natural  laws 
which  He  has  impressed  upon  the  dull  clod  beneath 
our  feet.  God  is  not  one  of  the  forces  of  nature. 
He  is  a  Person  and  a  Sovereign.  His  special  and 
highest  action  upon  the  human  soul  is  not  uniform. 
His  Spirit,  He  expressly  teaches  us,  does  not  always 
strive  with  man.  It  is  a  wind  that  bloweth  when 
and  where  it  listeth.  For  this  reason,  it  is  dauQ-er- 
ous  to  the  religious  interests  of  the  soul,  in  the 
highest  degree,  to  go  counter  to  any  impulses  of 
the  Spirit,  however  slight,  or  to  neglect  any  of  His 
admonitions,  however  gentle.     If  God  in  mercy  has 

29  the  reading  nuapTi/imror^  instead  mann,  Tischendorf,  and  Tregelles. 

of  Kpiactjr,  is  9n])ported  by  a  major-  "  lie  that  shall  blaspheme  against 

ity  of  theoldest  manuscripts  and  the   Holy  Ghost. ..  .is  la  danger 

yersioDS,  and  is  adopted  by  Lach-  of  eternal  sm." 
8 


158        THE    NECESSITY    OF   DIVIIS'E   USTFLUEISTCES. 

once  come  in  upon  a  tlionglitless  mind,  and  wa- 
kened it  to  eternal  realities ;  if  He  has  enlio-htened  it 
to  perceive  the  things  that  make  for  its  peace  ;  and 
that  mind  slights  this  merciful  interference,  and 
stifles  down  these  inward  teachings,  then  God  with- 
draws, and  whether  He  Avill  ever  return  again  to 
that  soul  depends  upon  His  mere  sovereign  volition. 
He  has  bound  himself  hj  no  promise  to  do  so.  He 
has  established  no  uniform  law  of  operation,  in  the 
case.  It  is  true  that  He  is  very  pitiful  and  of  ten- 
der mercy,  and  waits  and  bears  long  with  the  sin- 
ner ;  and  it  is  also  true,  that  He  is  terribly  severe 
and  just,  when  He  thinks  it  pi'oper  to  be  so,  and 
says  to  those  who  have  despised  His  Spirit : 
"  Because  I  have  called  and  ye  refused,  and  have 
stretched  out  my  hand,  and  no  man  regarded,  I 
will  laugh  at  your  calamity,  and  mock  when  your 
fear  cometh." 

Let  no  one  say :  "  God  has  promised  to  bestow 
the  Holy  Ghost  to  every  one  who  asks :  I  will  ask 
at  some  future  time."  To  "  ai5k"  for  the  Holy  Spirit 
implies  some  already  existing  desire  that  He  would 
enter  the  mind  and  convince  of  sin,  and  convert  to 
God.  It  implies  some  craving^  some  yearning^  for 
Divine  influence;  ;  and  this  implies  some  measure 
of  such  influence  already  bestowed.  Man  asks  for 
the  Holy  Spirit,  only  as  he  is  moved  by  the  Holy 
Spirit.  The  Divine  is  ever  prevenient  to  the  human. 
Suppose  now,  that  a  man  resists  these  influences 
when   they  are  already  at  work  within  him,  and 


THE    KECESSITY    OF    DIVINE    ESfFLUENCES.        159 

says:  "I  will  seek  tliera  at  a  more  convenient  sea- 
sou."  Think  you,  that  when  that  convenient  season 
comes  round, — when  life  is  waning,  and  the  world 
is  receding,  and  the  eternal  gulf  is  yawning, — think 
you  that  that  man  who  has  already  resisted  grace 
can  make  his  own  heart  to  yearn  for  it,  and  his 
soul  to  crave  it  ?  Do  men  at  such  times  find  that 
sincere  desires,  and  longings,  and  aspirations, 
come  at  their  Leek?  Can  a  man  say,  w^ith  any 
prospect  of  success :  "  I  will  now  quench  out  this 
seriousness  which  the  Spirit  of  God  has  produced 
in  my  mind,  and  will  bring  it  up  again  ten  years 
hence.  I  will  stifle  this  drawincc  of  the  Eternal 
Father  of  my  soul  which  I  now  feel  at  the  roots 
of  my  being,  and  it  shall  re-appear  at  a  future 
day." 

No  !  While  it  is  true  that  any  one  who  "  asks," 
who  really  loants  a  spiritual  blessing,  will  obtain 
it,  it  is  equally  true  that  a  man  may  have  no  heart 
to  ask, — may  have  no  desire,  no  yearning,  no  aspira- 
tion at  all,  and  be  unable  to  produce  one.  In  this 
case  there  is  no  promise.  Whosoever  thirsts,  and 
only  he  who  thirsts,  can  obtain  the  water  of  life. 
Cherish,  therefore,  t'.ie  faintest  influences  and  opera- 
tions of  the  Coinf  >:-l:er.  If  He  enlightens  your  con- 
science so  that  it  reproaches  you  for  sin,  seek  to 
have  the  work  go  on.  Never  resist  any  such  con- 
victions, and  never  attempt  to  stifle  them.  If  the 
Holy  Spirit  urges  you  to  confession  of  sin  before 
God,  yield  instantaneously  to  His  urging,  and  pour 


160        THE   NECESSITY    OF   DIVINE   INFLUENCES. 

out  your  soul  before  the  All-Merciful.  And  when 
He  says,  "  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,"  look  where 
He  points,  and  be  at  peace  and  at  rest.  The  secret 
of  all  spiritual  success  is  an  immediate  and  uniform 
submission  to  the  influences  of  the  Holv  Ghost. 


THE   IMPOTENCE   OF  THE   LAW. 


Hebrews  vii.  19. — "  For  the  law  made  nothing  perfect,  but  the  bringing  in 
of  a  better  hope  did ;  by  the  which  we  draw  nigh  to  God." 


It  is  the  aim  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  to 
teach  the  insufficiency  of  the  Jewish  Dispensation  to 
save  the  human  race  from  the  wrath  of  God  and 
the  power  of  sin,  and  the  all-sufficiency  of  the  Gos- 
pel Dispensation  to  do  this.  Hence,  the  writer  of 
this  Epistle  endeavors  with  special  effort  to  make 
the  Hebrews  feel  the  weakness  of  their  old  and 
much  esteemed  relio-ion,  and  to  show  tliem  that  the 
only  benefit  which  God  intended  by  its  estal)lish- 
ment  was,  to  point  men  to  the  perfect  and  final  re- 
ligion of  the  Gospel.  This  he  does,  by  examining 
the  parts  of  the  Old  Economy.  In  the  first  place, 
the  sacn'Jices  under  the  Mosaic  law  were  not  de- 
signed to  extinguish  the  sense  of  guilt, — "  for  it  is 
not  possible  that  the  blood  of  hulls  and  goats 
should  take  away  sin," — but  were  intended  merely 
to  awaken  the  sense  of  guilt,  and  thereby  to  lead 
the  Jew  to  look  to  that  mercy  of  God  which  at  a  fu- 
ture day  was  to  be  exhibited  in  the  sacrifice  of  his 


162  THE   IMPOTENCE    OF   THE   LAW. 

eternal  Son.  The  Jewish  priesthood^  again,  stand- 
ing between  the  sinner  and  God,  were  not  able  to 
avert  the  Divine  displeasure, — for  as  sinners  they 
were  themselves  exposed  to  it.  They  could  only 
typify,  and  direct  the  guilty  to,  the  great  High  Priest, 
the  Messiah,  whom  God's  mercy  would  send  in  the 
fulness  of  time.  Lastly,  the  moral  laiv,  proclaimed 
amidst  the  thunderings  and  lightnings  of  Sinai,  had 
no  power  to  secure  obedience,  but  only  a  fearful 
power  to  produce  the  consciousness  of  disobedience, 
and  of  exposure  to  a  death  far  more  awful  than  that 
threatened  ao;ainst  the  man  who  should  touch  the 
burninsr  mountain. 

It  was,  thus,  the  design  of  God,  by  this  legal  and 
preparatory  dispensation,  to  disclose  to  man  his 
ruined  and  heljdess  condition,  and  his  need  of  look- 
ing to  Him  for  everything  that  pertains  to  redemp- 
tion. And  he  did  it,  by  so  arranging  the  dispensa- 
tion that  the  Jevv  might,  as  it  were,  make  the  trial 
and  see  if  he  could  be  his  own  Redeemer.  He  in 
stituted  a  lono;  and  burdensome  round  of  observan- 
ces,  by  means  of  which  the  Jew  might,  if  possible, 
extinguish  the  remorse  of  his  conscience,  and  pro- 
duce the  peace  of  G<>d  in  his  soul.  God  seems  by 
the  sacrifices  under  the  law,  and  the  many  and 
costly  offerings  which  the  Jew  was  commanded  to 
bring  into  the  temple  of  the  Lord,  to  have  virtually 
said  to  him  :  "  Thou  art  guilty,  and  My  wrath  right- 
eously abides  within  thy  conscience, — yet,  do  what 
thou  canst  to  free  thyself  from  it ;  free  thyself  from 


THE   LtfPOTENCE    OF   THE   LAW.  163 

it  if  thou  canst ;  l)riii2:  a,n  offerinor  and  come  before 
Me.  But  when  tbou  hast  found  that  thy  conscience 
still  remains  perturbed  and  un pacified,  and  thy 
heart  still  continues  corrupt  and  sinful,  then  look 
away  from  thy  agency  and  thy  offering,  to  My  clem- 
ency and  My  offei-ing, — trust  not  in  these  finite  sac- 
rifices of  the  lamb  and  the  goat,  but  let  them  merely 
remind  thee  of  the  infinite  sacrifice  which  in  the 
fulness  of  time  I  will  provide  for  the  sin  of  the 
woild, — and  thy  peace  shall  be  as  a  river,  and  thy 
righteousness  as  the  waves  of  the  sea." 

But  the  proud  and  legal  spirit  of  the  Jew  blind- 
ed him,  and  he  did  not  perceive  the  true  meaning 
and  intent  of  his  national  religion.  He  made  it  an 
end,  instead  of  a  mere  means  to  an  end.  Hence,  it 
became  a  mechanical  round  of  obsei"vances,  kept  up 
by  custom,  and  eventually  lost  the  power,  which  it 
had  in  the  earlier  and  better  ages  of  the  Jewish 
commonwealth,  of  awakening  the  feeling  of  guilt 
and  the  sense  of  the  need  of  a  Kedeemer.  Thus,  in 
tlie  days  of  our  Saviour's  appearance  upon  the  earth, 
the  chosen  guardians  of  this  religion,  which  was  in- 
tended to  make  men  humble,  and  feel  their  person 
al  ill-desert  and  need  of  mercy,  had  become  self-sat- 
isfied and  self-ricjhteous.  A  reli2;ion  desi2:ned  to 
prompt  the  utterance  of  the  greatest  of  its  proph- 
ets :  "  Woe  is  me  !  I  am  a  man  of  unclean  lips,  and  I 
dwell  in  the  midst  of  a  people  of  unclean  lips,"  now 
prompted  the  utterance  of  the  Pharisee :  "  I  thank 
Thee  that  I  am  not  as  other  men  are." 


164  THE   IMPOTElSrCE  OF   THE   LAW. 

The  Jew,  in  the  times  of  our  Saviour  and  Lis 
Apostles,  Lad  tLus  entirely  mistaken  tLe  nature  and 
purpose  of  tLe  Old  dispensation,  and  Lence  was  tLe 
most  bitter  opponent  of  tLe  New.  He  rested  in  tLe 
formal  and  ceremonial  sacrifice  of  bulls  and  goats, 
and  tLerefore  counted  tLe  blood  of  tLe  Son  of  God 
an  unLoly  tLing.  He  tLougLt  to  appear  before  Hini 
in  wLose  sigLt  tLe  Leavens  are  not  clean,  clotLed 
in  Lis  own  rigLteousness,  and  Lence  despised  tLe 
rigLteousness  of  CLrist.  In  reality,  Le  appealed  to 
tLe  justice  of  God,  and  tLerefore  rejected  tLe  relig- 
ion of  mercy. 

But,  tLis  spirit  is  not  confined  to  tLe  Jew.  It 
pervades  tLe  Luman  race.  Man  is  naturally  a  le- 
galist. He  desires  to  be  justified  by  Lis  own  cLar- 
acter  and  Lis  own  works,  and  reluctates  at  tLe 
tLougLt  of  being  accepted  upon  tLe  ground  of  an- 
otLer's  merits.  TLis  Judaistic  spirit  is  seen  wLer- 
ever  tLere  is  none  of  tlie  publican's  feeling  wLen  Le 
said,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner."  All  confi- 
dence in  personal  virtue,  all  appeals  to  civil  integ- 
rity, all  attendance  upon  tLe  ordinances  of  tLe  CLris- 
tian  religion  without  tLe  exercise  of  tLe  CLristian's 
penitence  and  faith,  is,  in  reality,  an  exLibition  of 
tLat  same  legal  unevangelic  spirit  wLicL  in  its  ex- 
treme form  inflated  tLe  PLarisee,  and  led  Lim  to 
tithe  mint  anise  and  cummin.  Man's  so  general  re- 
jection of  the  Sou  of  God  as  suffering  the  just  for 
the  unjust,  as  the  manifestation  of  the  Divine  clem- 
ency towards  a  criminal,  is  a  sign  either  that  he  ia 


TIIE    IMrOTENCE    OF    THE   LAW.  1G5 

insensible  of  Lis  guilt,  or  else  that  being  somewlial 
conscious  of  it  be  thinks  to  cancel  it  himself. 

Still,  think  and  act  as  men  may,  the  method  of 
God  in  the  Gospel  is  the  only  method.  Other  foun- 
dation can  no  man  lay  than  is  laid.  For  it  rests 
upon  stubborn  fiicts,  and  inexorable  princijdes. 
God  knows  that  however  anxiously  a  transgressor 
may  strive  to  pacify  his  conscience,  and  prepare  it 
for  the  judgment-day,  its  deep  remorse  can  be  re- 
moved only  by  the  blood  of  incarnate  Deity ;  that 
however  sedulously  he  may  attempt  to  obey  the  law, 
he  will  utterly  fail,  unless  he  is  inwardly  renewed 
and  strengthened  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  He  knows 
that  mere  bare  law  can  make  no  sinner  perfect 
again,  but  that  only  the  bringing  in  of  a  "better 
hope  "  can, — a  hope  by  the  which  we  draw  nigli  to 
God. 

The  text  leads  us  to  inquire :  Why  cannot  the 
moral  law  make  fallen  man  perfect?  Or,  in  other 
words :  Why  cannot  the  ten  commandments  save  a 
sinner? 

That  we  may  answer  this  question,  we  must  first 
understand  what  is  meant  by  a  perfect  man.  It  is 
one  in  whom  there  is  no  defect  or  fault  of  any 
kind, — one,  therefore,  who  has  no  perturbation  in 
his  conscience,  and  no  sin  in  his  heart.  It  is  a  man 
who  is  entirely  at  peace  with  himself,  and  with  God, 
and  whose  affections  are  in  perfect  conformity  with 
the  Divine  law. 

But  fallen  man,  man  as  we  find  him  universally, 

8* 


166  THE   IMPOTENCE    OF   THE   LAW. 

is  characterized  by  both  a  remorseful  conscience 
and  an  evil  heart.  His  conscience  distresses  him, 
not  indeed  uniformly  and  constantly  V)ut,  in  the  great 
emergencies  of  his  life, — in  the  hour  of  sickness, 
danger,  death, — and  his  heart  is  selfish  and  corrupt 
continually.  He  lacks  perfection,  therefore,  in  two 
l^articulars ;  first,  in  respect  to  acquittal  at  the  bar 
of  justice,  and  secondly,  in  respect  to  inward  purity. 
That,  therefore,  which  proposes  to  make  him  per- 
fect again,  must  quiet  the  sense  of  guilt  upon  valid 
grounds,  and  must  produce  a  holy  character.  If 
the  method  fails  in  either  of  these  two  respects,  it 
fails  altogether  in  making  a  perfect  man. 

But  how  can  the  moral  law,  or  the  ceremonial 
law,  or  both  united,  produce  within  the  human  soul 
the  cheerful,  liberating,  sense  of  acquittal,  and  re- 
conciliation with  God's  justice  ?  Why,  the  very 
function  and  office-work  of  law,  in  all  its  forms,  is  to 
condemn  and  terrify  the  transgressor  ;  how  then  can 
it  calm  and  soothe  him?  Or,  is  there  anything  in 
the  performance  of  duty, — in  the  act  of  obeying 
law, — that  is  adapted  to  produce  this  result,  by  tak- 
ing away  guilt  ?  Suppose  that  a  mui'derer  could 
and  should  perform  a  perfectly  holy  act,  would  it 
be  any  relief  to  his  anguished  conscience,  if  he 
should  offer  it  as  an  oblation  to  Eternal  Justice  for 
the  sin  that  is  past  ?  if  he  should  plead  it  as  an  off- 
set for  havino;  killed  a  man  ?  When  we  ourselves 
review  the  past,  and  see  that  we  have  not  kept  the 
law  up  to  the  present  point  in  our  lives,  is  the  gnaw- 


THE   BIPOTENCE    OF   THE    LAW.  16? 

ing  of  the  worm  to  be  stopped,  by  resolving  to  keep 
it,  and  actually  keeping  it  from  this  ppint  ?  Can 
such  a  use  of  the  law  as  this  is, — can  the  perform- 
ance of  good  works,  imaginary  or  real  ones,  im- 
perfect or  perfect  ones, — discharge  the  office  of  an 
atonement^  and  so  make  us  perfect  in  the  forum  of 
conscience,  and  fill  us  with  a  deep  and  lasting  sense 
of  reconciliation  with  the  offended  majesty  and  jus- 
tice of  God  ?  Plainly  not.  For  there  is  nothing 
compensatory,  nothing  cancelling,  nothing  of  the 
nature  of  a  satisfaction  of  justice,  in  the  best  obe- 
dience that  was  ever  rendered  to  moral  law,  by 
saint,  angel,  or  seraph.  Because  the  creature  otve-s 
tlie  whole.  He  is  obligated  from  the  very  first  in- 
stant of  his  existence,  onward  and  evermore,  to  love 
God  supremely,  and  to  obey  him  perfectly  in  every 
act  and  element  of  his  being.  Therefore,  the  per- 
fectly obedient  saint,  angel,  and  seraph  must  each 
say:  "I  am  an  unprofitable  servant,  I  have  done 
only  that  which  it  was  my  duty  to  do  ;  I  can  make 
no  amends  for  past  ftiilures ;  I  can  do  no  work  that 
is  meritorious  and  atonino;."  Obedience  to  law, 
then,  by  a  creature,  and  still  less  by  a  sinner,  can 
never  atone  for  the  sins  that  are  past ;  can  never 
make  the  guilty  perfect  "  in  things  pertaining  to 
conscience."  And  if  a  man,  in  this  indirect  and 
roundabout  manner,  neglects  the  provisions  of  tlie 
gospel,  neglects  the  oblation  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
betakes  himself  to  the  discharge  of  his  own  duty  as 
a  substitute  therefor,  he  only  finds  that  the  flame 


168  THE   IMPOTENCE    OE   THE   LAW. 

Liirns  liotter,  and  the  fang  of  tbe  worm  is  sharper. 
If  he  looks  to  the  moral  law  in  any  form,  and  by 
any  method,  that  he  may  get  quit  of  his  remorse  and 
liis  fears  of  judgment,  the  feeling  of  unreconcilia- 
tion  with  justice,  and  the  fearful  looking-for  of  judg- 
ment is  only  made  more  vivid  and  deep.  Whoever 
attempts  the  discharge  of  duties  for  the  purpose  of 
atoning  for  Ms  sins  takes  a  direct  method  of  increas- 
ing the  pains  and  perturbations  which  he  seeks  to 
remove.  The  more  he  thinks  of  law,  and  the  more 
he  endeavors  to  obey  it  for  the  purpose  of  purchas- 
ing the  pardon  of  past  transgression,  the  more 
wretched  does  he  become.  Look  into  the  lacerated 
conscience  of  Martin  Luther  before  he  found  the 
Cross,  examine  the  anxiety  and  gloom  of  Chalmers 
befoi'e  he  saw  the  Lamb  of  God,  for  proof  that  this 
is  so.  These  men,  at  first,  were  most  earnest  in  their 
use  of  the  law  in  order  to  re-instate  themselves  in 
right  relations  with  God's  justice.  But  the  more 
they  toiled  in  this  direction,  the  less  they  succeed- 
ed. Burning  with  inward  anguish,  and  with  God's 
arrows  sticking-  fast  in  him,  shall  the  trans2:ressor 
get  relief  from  the  attribute  of  Divine  justice,  and 
the  qualities  of  law  ?  Shall  the  ten  commandments 
of  Sinai,  in  any  of  their  forms  or  uses,  send  a  cooling 
and  calming  virtue  through  the  hot  conscience? 
With  these  kindlino;  flashes  in  his  guilt-stricken 
spirit,  shall  he  run  into  the  very  identical  fire  that 
kindled  them  ?  Shall  he  try  to  quench  them  in  that 
"  Tophet  which  is  ordained  of  old  ;  which  is  made 


TIIE    IMPOTENCE    OF   THE   LAW.  1G9 

deep  and  large  ;  the  pile  of  which  is  fire  and  miicli 
wood,  and  the  breath  of  the  Lord  like  a  stream  of 
brimstone  doth  kindle  it?*"  And  yet  such  is,  in 
reality,  the  attempt  of  every  man  who,  upon  being 
convicted  in  his  conscience  of  guilt  before  God,  en- 
deavors to  attain  peace  by  resolutions  to  alter  his 
course  of  conduct,  and  strenuous  endeavors  to  obey 
the  commands  of  God, — in  sliort  by  relying  upon 
the  law  in  any  form,  as  a  means  of  reconcilia- 
tion. Such  is  the  suicidal  effort  of  every  man 
who  substitutes  the  law  for  the  gospel,  and  ex- 
pects to  produce  within  himself  the  everlasting 
peace  of  God,  by  anything  short  of  the  atonement 
of  God. 

Let  us  fix  it,  then,  as  a  fact,  that  the  feeling  of 
culi)ability  and  unreconciliation  can  never  be  re- 
moved, so  long  as  we  do  not  look  entirely  away 
from  our  own  character  and  ^vorks  to  the  mere  pure 
mercy  of  Gotl  in  the  blood  of  Christ.  The  trans- 
gressor can  never  atone  for  crime  by  anything 
that  he  can  suffer,  or  anything  ihai  he  can  do. 
lie  cau  never  establish  a  ground  of  justification,  a 
reason  why  he  should  be  forgiven,  by  his  tears,  or 
his  prayers,  or  his  acts.  Neither  the  law,  nor  his 
attempts  to  obey  the  law,  can  re-instate  him  in  Lis 
original  relations  to  justice,  and  make  him  perfect 
again  in  respect  to  his  conscience.  The  ten  com- 
mandments can  never  silence  his  inward  miso:ivin<2:s, 
and  his  moral  fears ;  for  they  are  given  for  the  very 
purpose  of  producing  misgivings,  and  causing  fears. 


l70  THE    IMPOTENCE    OF   THE   LAW. 

"  The  law  woiketh  wratb."  And  if  this  truth  and 
fact  be  dearly  perceived,  and  boldly  acknowledged 
to  his  own  mind,  it  will«<::ut  him  off  from  all  these 
legal  devices  and  attempts,  and  will  shut  Lim  up  to 
the  Divine  mercy  and  the  Divine  promise  in  Christ, 
where  alone  he  is  safe. 

We  Lave  thus  seen  that  one  of  the  two  things 
recessary  in  order  that  apostate  man  may  becume 
perfect  again, — viz.,  the  pacification  of  his  con- 
science,— cannot  be  obtained  in  and  by  the  law,  in 
any  of  its  forms  or  uses.  Let  us  now  examine  the 
other  thing  necessary  in  order  to  human  perfection, 
and  see  what  the  law  can  do  towards  it. 

The  other  requisite,  in  order  that  fallen  man  may 
become  perfect  again,  is  a  holy  heart  and  will.  Can 
the  moral  law  originate  this  ?  That  we  may  liglitly 
answer  the  question,  let  us  remember  that  a  holy 
will  is  one  that  keeps  the  law  of  God  spontaneously 
and  that  a  perfect  heart  is  one  that  sends  forth  holy 
affections  and  pure  thoughts  as  naturally  as  the  sin- 
ful heart  sends  forth  unholy  affections  and  impure 
thoughts.  A  holy  will,  like  an  evil  will,  is  a  won- 
derful and  wonderfully  fertile  power.  It  does  not 
consist  in  an  ability  to  make  a  few  or  many  sepa- 
rate resolutions  of  obedience  to  the  divine  law,  but 
in  being  itself  one  great  inclination  and  determina- 
tion continually  and  mightily  going  forth.  A  holy 
will,  therefore,  is  one  thfitfrom  its  very  nature  and 
f^pontaneity  seeks  God,  and  the  glory  of  God.  It 
does  not  even  need  to  make  a  specific  resolution  to 


THE    lilPOTENCE   OF   THE   LAW.  171 

obey ;  any  more  than  an  affectionate  child  needs  to 
resolve  to  obey  its  father. 

In  like  manner,  a  perfect  and  holy  heart  is  a  far 
more  profound  and  capacious  thing  than  men  who 
have  never  seriously  tried  to  obtain  it  deem  it  to 
be.  It  does  not  consist  in  the  possession  of  a  few  or 
many  holy  thoughts  mixed  with  some  sinful  ones,  or 
in  having  a  few  or  many  holy  desires  together  with 
some  corrupt  ones.  A  peri'ect  lieart  is  one  undivi- 
ded agency,  and  does  not  ])roduce,  as  the  imperfectly 
sanctified  heart  of  the  Christian  does,  fruits  of  holi- 
ness and  fruits  of  sin,  holy  thoughts  and  unholy 
thouirhts.  It  is  itself  a  root  and  centre  of  holiness, 
and  nothing  but  goodness  springs  up  from  it.  The 
angels  of  God  are  totally  holy.  Their  wills  are  un- 
ceasinjzly  going  foi'th  towai'ds  Him  with  ease  and 
delight;  their  hearts  are  uninterraittently  gushing 
out  emotions  of  love,  and  feelin^cs  of  adoration,  and 

'  O  7 

thoughts  of  reverence,  and  therelbre  the  song  that 
they  sing  is  unceasing,  and  the  smoke  of  their  in- 
cense ascendeth  forever  and  ever. 

Such  is  the  holy  will,  and  the  perfect  heart,  wliich 
fallen  man  must  obtain  in  order  to  he  fit  for  heaven. 
To  this  complexion  must  he  come  at  last.  And 
now  we  ask :  Can  the  law  generate  all  this  excel- 
lence within  the  human  soul  %  In  order  to  answer 
this  question,  we  must  consider  the  nature  of  law, 
and  the  manner  of  its  operation.  The  law,  as  anti- 
thetic to  the  gospel,  and  as  the  word  is  employed 
in  the  text,  is  in  its  nature  mandatory  and  minatory. 


172  THE    IMPOTENCE   OF   THE   LAW. 

It  commands,  and  it  threatens.  This  is  the  style  oi 
its  operatioD.  Can  a  perfect  heart  be  originated 
in  a  sinner  by  tliese  two  methods?  Does  the  stern 
beliest,  "  Do  this  or  die,"  secure  his  willing  and  joy- 
fnl  obedience  ?  On  the  contrary,  the  very  fact  that 
the  law  of  God  comes  up  before  him  coupled  thus 
with  a  threatenhig  evinces  that  his  aversion  and 
hostility  are  most  intense.  As  the  Apostle  says, 
"  The  law  is  not  made  for  a  riirhteous  man  ;  but  for 
the  lawless  and  disobedient,  for  the  ungodly  and 
for  sinners."  Were  man,  like  the  angels  on  high, 
sweetly  obedient  to  the  Divine  will,  there  would 
be  no  arming  of  law  with  terror,  no  proclamation 
of  ten  commandments  amidst  thnnderings  and  light- 
nings. He  would  be  a  law  unto  himself^  as  all  the 
heavenly  host  are, — the  law  working  impulsively 
within  him  by  its  own  exceeding  lawfulness  and 
beauty.  The  very  fact  that  God,  in  tlie  instance  of 
man,  is  comj)elled  to  emphasize  the  penalty  along 
with  the  statute, — to  say, "  Keep  my  commandments 
iijyon  ])ah%  of  eternal  death^'' — is  proof  conclusive 
that  man  is  a  rebel,  and  intensely  so. 

And  now  what  is  the  effect  of  this  combination 
of  command  and  threatening  upon  the  agent?  Is 
he  moulded  by  it?  Does  it  congenially  sway  and 
incline  him?  On  the  contrary,  is  he  not  excited 
to  opposition  by  it  ?  When  the  commandment 
"{?(9?7i6S,"  loaded  down  with  menace  and  damnation, 
does  not  sin  "  revive,"  as  the  Apostle  affirms  ?  ^     Ar- 

'Eom.  vii.  9-12. 


THE   IMPOTENCE    OF    THE    LAW.  173 

rest  the  transgressor  in  the  very  act  of  disobedience, 
and  ring  in  his  ears  the  "Thou  shalt  not^'  of  the 
decah^gue,  and  does  he  find  that  the  law  has  the 
power  to  alter  his  inclination,  to  overcome  his  car- 
nal mind,  and  make  him  perfect  in  holiness  ?  On 
the  contrary,  the  more  you  ply  him  with  the  stern 
command,  and  the  more  you  emphasize  the  awful 
threatening,  the  more  do  you  make  him  conscious 
of  inward  sin,  and  awaken  his  depravity.  "  The 
law," — as  St.  Paul  affirms  in  a  very  remarkable  text, 
— "is  the  strength  of  sin,'*  ^  instead  of  being  its  de- 
struction. Nay,  he  had  not  even  (re)  known  sin, 
but  by  the  law :  for  he  had  not  known  lust,  except 
the  law  had  said,  "Thou  shalt  not  lust."  The  com- 
mandment stimulates  instead  of  extirpating  his 
hostility  to  the  Divine  government ;  and  so  long 
as  the  mere  command,  and  the  mere  threat, — which, 
as  the  hymn  tells  us,  is  all  the  law  can  do, —  are 
brought  to  bear,  the  depravity  of  the  rebellious 
heart  becomes  more  and  more  apparent,  and  more 
and  more  intensified. 

There  is  no  more  touching  poem  in  all  litei-ature 
than  that  one  in  which  the  pensive  and  moral  Schiller 
portrays  the  struggle  of  an  ingenuous  youth  who 
would  find  the  source  of  moral  purification  in  the 
moral  law  ;  who  would  seek  the  power  that  can 
transform  him,  in  the  mere  imperatives  of  his  con- 
science, and  the  mere  strugglings  and  spasms  of  his 
own  will,     lie  represents  him  as  endeavoring  earn- 

'  1  Cor.  XV  56. 


174  THE   IMPOTENCE    OF   THE   LAW. 

estly  and  long  to  feel  tLe  force  of  obligation,  and  as 
toiling  sedulously  to  school  himself  into  virtue,  by 
the  bare  pOwer,  by  the  dead  lift,  of  duty.  But  the 
longer  he  tries,  the  more  he  loathes  the  restraints 
of  law.  Virtue,  instead  of  growing  lovely  to  him, 
becomes  more  and  more  severe,  austere,  and  repel- 
lant.  His  life,  as  the  Scripture  phrases  it,  is  "  under 
law,"  and  not  under  love.  There  is  nothing  S])on- 
taneous,  nothing  willing,  nothing  genial  in  his  re- 
ligion. He  does  not  enjoy  religion,  but  he  endures 
religion.  Conscience  does  not,  in  the  least,  reno- 
vate his  will,  but  merely  checks  it,  or  goads  it.  He 
becomes  weaiied  and  worn,  and  conscious  that  after 
all  his  self-school i nil  he  is  the  same  creature  at  heart, 
in  his  disposition  and  affections,  that  he  was  at  the 
commencement  of  the  effoit,  he  cries  out,  "  0  Vir- 
tue, take  back  thy  crown,  and  let  me  sin."  ^  The 
tired  and  diso;usted  soul  would  once  more  do  a 
sj)ontaneoiiS  thing. 

Was,  then,  that  which  is  good  made  death  unto 
this  youth,  by  a  Divine  arrangement?  Is  this  the 
original  and  necessary  relation  which  law  sustains 
to  the  will  and  affections  of  an  accountable  creature  ? 
Must  the  pure  and  holy  law  of  God,  from  the  very 
nature  of  things,  be  a  weariness  and  a  curse?  God 
fo]'bid.  But  sin  that  it  might  api^ear  sin,  working 
death  in  the  sinner  by  that  which  is  good, — that 
sin  by  the  commandment  might  become,  might  be 
seen  to  be,  exceedius:  sinful.    The  law  is  like  a  chem- 

^  ScniLLER  :  Der  Kanipf. 


THE    IJIPOTENCE    OF   THE    LAW.  175 

ical  test.  It  eats  into  sin  enough  to  show  what  sin 
is,  and  there  stops.  Tlie  lunar  caustic  bites  into  the 
dead  flesh  of  the  mortified  ]imb ;  but  there  is  no 
healing  virtue  in  the  lunar  caustic.  The  moral  law 
makes  no  inward  alterations  in  a  sinner.  In  its 
own  distinctive  and  proper  action  upon  the  heart 
and  will  of  an  apostate  being,  it  is  fitted  only  to 
elicit  and  exasperate  his  existing  enmity.  It  can, 
therefore,  no  more  be  a  source  of  sanctification,  than 
it  can  be  of  justification. 

Of  what  use,  then,  is  the  law  to  a  fallen  man  ? — 
some  one  will  ask.  Why  is  the  commandment 
enunciated  in  the  Scriptures,  and  why  is  the  Chris- 
tian ministry  perpetually  preaching  it  to  men  dead 
in  ti'espasses  and  sins?  If  the  law  can  subdue  no 
man's  obstinate  will,  and  can  renovate  no  man's 
corrupt  heart, — if  it  can  make  nothing  perfect  in 
human  chai-acter, — then,  "  wherefore  serveth  the 
law  ?  "  "  It  was  added  because  of  transgressions," — 
says  the  Apostle  in  answer  to  this  very  question.^ 
It  is  preached  and  forced  home  in  oi'der  to  detect 
sin,  but  not  to  remove  it ;  to  bring  men  to  a  con- 
sciousness of  the  evil  of  their  hearts,  but  not  to 
change  their  hearts.  "  Foi-,"  continues  tlie  Apostle, 
"  if  there  had  been  a  law  given  which  could  have 
given  ///V,'' — which  could  produce  a  transformation 
of  character, — '■^  then  vei'ily  righteousness  should 
have  been  by  the  law."  It  is  not  because  the  stern 
and  threatening  commandment  can  impart  spiritual 

*  Galatians  iii.  19. 


\. 


176  THE    IMPOTEJSrCE    OF   THE   LAW. 

vitality  to  the  sinner,  Ibut  iDecause  it  can  produce 
within  him  the  keen  vivid  sense  of  spiritual  death, 
that  it  is  enunciated  in  the  word  of  God,  and  pro- 
claimed from  the  OLristian  pulpit.  The  Divine  law 
is  waved  like  a  flashing  sword  before  the  eyes  of 
man,  not  because  it  can  make  him  alive  but,  because 
it  can  slay  him,  that  he  may  then  be  made  alive, 
not  by  the  law  but  by  the  Holy  Ghost, — by  the 
Breath  that  cometh  from  the  four  winds  and  breathes 
on  the  slain. 

It  is  easy  to  see,  by  a  moment's  reflection,  that, 
from  the  nature  of  the  case,  the  moral  law  cannot 
be  a  source  of  spiritual  life  and  sanctification  to  a 
soul  that  has  lost  these.  For  law  primarily  sup- 
poses life,  supposes  an  obedient  inclination,  and 
therefore  does  not  produce  it.  It  is  not  the  function 
of  any  law  to  impart  that  moral  force,  that  right 
disposition  of  the  heart,  by  which  its  command  is 
to  be  obeyed.  The  State,  for  example,  enacts  a  law 
against  murder,  but  this  mere  enactment  does  not, 
and  cannot,  produce  a  benevolent  disposition  in  the 
citizens  of  the  commonwealth,  in  case  they  are  des- 
titute of  it.  How  often  do  we  hear  the  remark, 
that  it  is  impossible  to  legislate  either  morality  or 
religion  into  the  people.  When  the  Supreme  Gov- 
ei'nor  first  placed  man  under  the  o])ligations  and 
sovereignty  of  law,  He  created  him  in  His  own  image 
and  likeness  :  endowing  him  with  that  holy  heart 
and  right  inclination  which  obeys  the  law  of  G(>d 
with    ease    and    delight.      God    made    man    up- 


THE    IMPOTEKCE    OF   THE   LAW.  177 

riglit,  aud  in  this  state  lie  could  and  did  keep  tlie 
commands  of  God  perfectly.  If.  therefore,  by  any 
suhsequent  action  upon  tLeir  part,  mankind  have 
gone  out  of  the  primary  relationship  in  which  they 
stood  to  law,  and  have  by  their  apostasy  lost  all 
holy  sympathy  with  it,  and  all  affectionate  disposi-- 
tion  to  obey  it,  it  only  remains  for  the  law  (not  to 
change  along  with  them,  but)  to  continue  immuta- 
bly the  same  pure  and  righteous  thing,  and  to  say, 
"  Obey  perfectly,  and  thou  shalt  live  ;  disobey  in  a 
single  instance,  and  thou  shalt  die." 

But  the  text  teaches  us,  that  although  the  law 
can  make  no  sinful  man  perfect,  either  upon  the 
side  of  justification,  or  of  sanctification,  "the  bring- 
ing in  of  a  better  hope  "  can.  This  hope  is  the  evan- 
gelic hope, — the  yearning  desire,  aud  the  humble 
trust, — to  l)e  forgiven  through  the  atonement  of 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  to  be  sanctified  by  the 
indwelling  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  A  simple,  but 
a  most  powerful  thing !  Does  the  law,  in  its  abrupt 
and  terrible  operation  in  my  conscience,  start  out 
the  feeling  of  guiltiness  until  I  throb  with  anguisli, 
and  moral  fear  ?  I  hope,  I  trust,  I  ask,  to  be  par- 
doned through  the  blood  of  the  Eternal  Son  of  God 
my  Kedeemer.  I  will  answer  all  these  accusations 
of  law  and  conscience,  by  pleading  what  my  Lord 
has  done. 

Again,  does  the  law  search  me,  and  probe  me, 
and  elicit  me,  and  reveal  me,  until  I  would  shrink 
out  of  the  sight  of  God  and  of  myself?     I  hope,  I 


178  TOE   IM:POTEJq"CE    OF    THE   LAW. 

trust,  I  ask,  to  be  made  pure  as  the  angels,  spotless 
as  the  seraphim,  by  the  transformiDg  grace  of  the 
Holy  Spirit.  This  confidence  in  Christ's  Person  and 
Work  is  the  anchor, — an  anchor  that  was  never  yet 
wrenched  from  the  clefts  of  the  Rock  of  Ages,  and 
never  will  be  through  the  aeons  of  seons.  By  this 
hope,  which  goes  away  from  self,  and  goes  away 
from  the  law,  to  Christ's  oblation  and  the  Holy 
Spirit's  energy,  we  do  indeed  draw  very  nigh  to 
God, — "  heart  to  heart,  spii'it  to  spirit,  life  to  life." 

1.  The  unfolding  of  this  text  of  Scripture  shows, 
in  the  first  place,  the  importance  of  having  a  dis- 
tinct  and  discriminatwg  co7iception  of  law,  and  es- 

]peciaUy  of  its  pro^jer  function  in  reference  to  a  sin' 
fid  heing.  Very  much  is  gained  when  we  under- 
stand precisely  what  the  moral  law,  as  taught  in 
the  Scriptures,  and  written  in  our  consciences,  can 
do,  and  cannot  do,  towards  our  salvation.  It  can 
do  nothing  positively  and  efficiently.  It  cannot  ex- 
tinguish a  particle  of  our  guilt,  and  it  cannot  purge 
away  a  particle  of  our  corruption.  Its  operation  is 
wholly  negative  and  preparatory.  It  is  merely  a 
schoolmaster  to  conduct  us  to  Christ.  And  the 
more  definitely  this  truth  and  fact  is  fixed  in  our 
minds,  the  more  intelligently  shall  we  proceed  in 
our  use  of  law  and  conscience. 

2.  In  the  second  place,  the  unfolding  of  this  text 
shows  the  importance  of  using  tlie  law  faitlifully 
and  fearlessly  within  its  own  limits,  and  in  accord/- 
ance  with  its  proper  function.    It  is  frequently  asked 


THE   IMPOTENCE    OF   THE   LAW.  179 

what  the  sinner  shall  do  iu  the  work  of  salvation. 
Tlie  answer  is  nigh  thee,  in  thy  mouth,  and  in  thy 
heart.  Be  continually  applyiug  the  law  of  God  to 
your  personal  character  and  conduct.  Keep  an  act- 
ive and  a  searching  conscience  within  your  sinful 
soul.  Use  the  high,  broad,  and  strict  commandment 
of  God  as  an  instrumentality  by  which  all  ease,  and 
all  indifference,  in  sin  shall  be  banished  from  the 
breast.  Employ  all  this  apparatus  of  torture,  as 
perhaps  it  ma}"  seem  to  you  in  some  sorrowful  hours, 
and  break  up  that  moral  drowze  and  lethargy 
which  is  ruining  so  many  souls.  And  then  cease 
this  work,  the  instant  you  have  experimentally 
found  out  that  the  law  reaches  a  limit  beyond 
which  it  cannot  go, — that  it  forgives  none  of  the 
sins  which  it  detects,  produces  no  change  in  the 
heart  whose  vileness  it  reveals,  and  makes  no  lost 
sinner  perfect  again.  Having  used  the  law  legiti- 
mately, for  purposes  of  illumination  and  conviction 
merely,  leave  it  forever  a^  a  source  of  justification 
and  sanctification,  and  seek  these  in  Christ's  atone- 
ment, and  the  Holy  Spirit's  gracious  operation  in 
the  heart.  Then  sin  shall  not  have  dominion  over 
you ;  for  you  shall  not  be  under  law,  but  under 
grace.  After  thiitfalfh  is  come,  ye  are  no  longer 
under  a  schoolmastei'.  For  ye  are  then  the  children 
of  God  by  faith  in  Christ  Jesus.^ 

How  simple  are   the   terms  of  salvation!     But 
then  they  presuppose  this  work  of  the  law, — this 

'  Galutians  iii.  25,  26. 


180  THE   IMPOTEIS'CE   OF   THE   LAW. 

guilt-smltteu  conscience,  and  this  wearying  sense  of 
bondage  to  sin.  It  is  easy  for  a  thirsty  soul  to 
drink  down  the  draught  of  cold  water.  Nothing 
is  simpler,  nothing  is  more  grateful  to  the  sensations. 
But  suppose  that  the  soul  is  satiated,  and  is  not  a 
thirsty  one.  Then,  nothing  is  more  forced  and  re- 
pelling than  this  same  draught.  So  is  it  with  the 
provisions  of  the  gospel.  Do  we  feel  ourselves  to 
be  guilty  beings ;  do  we  hunger,  and  do  we  thirst 
for  the  expiation  of  our  sins  ?  Then  the  blood  of 
Christ  is  drink  indeed,  and  his  flesh  is  meat  with 
emphasis.  But  are  we  at  ease  and  self-contented  ? 
Then  nothing  is  more  distasteful  than  the  terms  of 
salvation.  Christ  is  a  root  out  of  dry  ground.  And 
so  long  as  we  remain  in  this  unfeeling  and  torpid 
state,  salvation  is  an  utter  impossibility.  The  seed 
of  the  gospel  cannot  germinate  and  grow  upon  a 
rock. 


SELF-SCRUTINY  IN  GOD'S  PRESENCE. 


iiATAH,  i.  11. — "Come  now,  and  let  us  reason  together,  saith  the  Lord; 
though  yo.ur  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  as  white  as  snow;  though 
they  bo  rod  like  crkason,  they  shall  be  as  wool." 


These  words  were  at  first  addressed  to  the 
Cbiircli  of  God.  The  prophet  Isaiah  begins  his 
prc)|)liecy,  by  calling  upon  the  heavens  and  the 
earth  to  witness  the  exceedin":  sinfulness  of  God's 
chosen  people.  "  Hear,  O  heavens,  and  give  ear  O 
earth  :  for  the  Lord  hath  spoken  ;  I  have  nourished 
and  brought  up  children,  and  they  have  rebelled 
against  me.  The  ox  knoweth  his  owner,  and  the 
ass  his  master's  crib  :  but  Israel  doth  not  know,  my 
people  doth  not  consider."  Such  ingratitude  and 
sin  as  this,  he  naturally  supposes  would  shock  the 
very  heavens  and  earth. 

Then  follows  a  most  vehement  and  terrible  re- 
buke. The  elect  people  of  God  are  called  "  Sod- 
om," and  "  Gomorrah."  "  Hear  the  word  of  the 
Lord  ye  rulers  of  Sodom  :  give  ear  unto  the  law  of 
our  God  ye  people  of  Gomorrah.     Why  should  ye 


182  SELF-SCEUTINY    IN    GOD's    PRESENCE. 

be  stricken  any  more?  ye  will  rev^olt  more  and 
more."  This  outflow  of  holy  displeasure  would 
prepare  us  to  expect  an  everlastingreprobacy  of  the 
rebellious  and  unfaithful  Qhurch,  but  it  is  strangely 
followed  by  the  most  yearning  and  melting  entreaty 
ever  addressed  by  tlie  Most  High  to  tlie  creatures 
of  His  footstool:  "Come  now,  and  let  us  reason  to- 
gether, though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall 
be  as  white  as  snow;  though  they  be  red  like 
crimson,  they  shall  be  as  wool." 

These  words  have,  however,  a  wider  a2:)plication  ; 
and  while  the  unfaithful  children  of  God  ought  to 
ponder  them  long  and  well,  it  is  of  equal  import- 
ance that  "  the  aliens  from  the  commonwealth  r\f 
Israel "  should  reflect  upon  them,  and  see  their 
general  application  to  all  transgressors,  so  long  as 
they  are  under  the  Gospel  dispensation.  Let  us, 
then,  consider  two  of  the  plain  lessons  taught,  in 
these  words  of  the  prophet,  to  ev^ery  unpardoned 
man. 

I.  The  text  represents  God  as  saying  to  the  trans- 
gressor of  his  law,  "  Come  and  let  us  reason  togeth- 
er.'''' The  first  lesson  to  be  learned,  consequently, 
is  the  duty  of  examining  our  moral  character  and 
conduct,  along  with  God. 

When  a  responsible  being  has  made  a  wrong  use 
of  his  powers,  nothing  is  more  reasonable  than  that 
he  should  call  himself  to  account  for  this  abuse. 
Nothing,  certainly,  is  more  necessary.  There  can 
be  no  amendment  for  the  future,  until  the  past  has 


SELF-SCRTTTINY    Ui    GOD's    PEESENCE.  183 

been  cared  for.  But  that  this  examination  may  be 
both  thorough  and  profitable,  it  must  be  made  in 
company  with  iJie  Searcher  of  hearts. 

For  there  are  always  two  beings  who  are  con- 
cerned with  sin ;  the  being  who  commits  it,  and  the 
Beino-  agjainst  whom  it  is  committed.  We  sin,  in- 
deed,  against  ourselves  ;  against  our  own  conscience, 
and  a2:ainst  our  own  best  interest.  But  we  sin  in 
a  yet  higher,  and  more  terrible  sense,  against  An- 
other than  ourselves,  compared  with  whose  majes- 
ty all  of  our  faculties  and  interests,  both  in  time 
and  eternity,  are  altogether  nothing  and  vanity.  It 
is  not  enough,  therefore,  to  refer  our  sin  to  the  law 
written  on  the  heart,  and  there  stop.  We  must  ul- 
timately pass  beyond  conscience  itself,  to  God,  and 
say,  "  Against  Thee  ha\;'e  I  sinned."  It  is  not  the 
highest  expression  of  the  religious  feeling,  when  we 
say,  "  How  can  I  do  this  great  wickedness,  and  sin 
against  my  conscience  ?  "  He  alone  has  reached  the 
summit  of  vision  who  looks  beyond  all  finite  limits, 
however  wide  and  distant,  beyond  all  finite  facul- 
ties however  noble  and  elevated,  and  says,  "  How 
can  I  do  this  great  wickedness,  and  sin  against 
God? 

Whenever,  therefore,  an  examination  is  made  into 
the  nature  of  moral  evil  as  it  exists  in  the  indi- 
vidual heart,  both  parties  concerned  should  share  in 
tlie  examination.  The  soul,  as  it  looks  within, 
should  invite  the  scrutiny  of  God  also,  and  as  fast 
as  it  makes  discoveries  of  its  transgression  and  cor- 


184  SELF-SCRUTINY    IN    GOd's   PRESENCE. 

ruptioii  slioulcl  realize  that  the  Holy  One  sees  also. 
Such  a  joint  examination  as  this  produces  a  very 
keen  and  clear  sense  of  the  evil  and  guilt  of  sin. 
Conscience  indeed  makes  cowards  of  us  all,  but 
when  the  eye  of  God  is  felt  to  be  upon  us,  it  smites 
us  to  the  ground.  "  When  Thou  with  rebukes," — 
says  the  Psalmist, — "  dost  correct  man  for  his  ini- 
quity, Thou  makest  his  beauty  to  consume  away 
like  a  moth."  One  great  reason  why  the  feeling 
which  the  moralist  has  towards  sin  is  so  tame  and 
languid,  when  compared  with  the  holy  abhorrence 
of  the  regenerate  mind,  lies  in  the  fact  that  he  has 
not  contemplated  human  depravity  in  company  with 
a  sin-hating  Jehovah.  At  the  very  utmost,  he  has 
been  shut  up  merely  with  a  moral  sense  which  he 
has  insulated  fi^om  its  dread  ground  and  support, — 
the  personal  character  and  holy  emotions  of  God. 
"What  wonder  is  it,  then,  that  this  finite  faculty 
should  lose  much  of  its  temper  and  severity,  and 
though  still  condemning  sin  (for  it  must  do  this, 
if  it  does  anything),  fails  to  do  it  with  that  spirit- 
ual energy  which  characterizes  the  conscience  when 
God  is  felt  to  be  co-present  and  co-operating.  So  it 
is,  in  other  provinces.  We  feel  the  guilt  of  an  evil 
action  more  sharply,  when  we  know  that  a  fellow- 
man  saw  us  commit  it,  than  when  we  know"  that 
no  one  but  ourselves  is  cosrnizant  of  the  deed.  The 
flush  of  shame  often  rises  into  our  foce,  upon  learn- 
ing accidentally  that  a  fellow-being  was  looking  at 
us,  when  we  did  the  wrong  action  without  any  blush. 


SELF-SCRUTIITY    IN"   GOD's   PRESENCE.  185 

How  much  more  criminal,  then,  do  we  feel,  when 
distinctly  aware  that  the  pure  and  holy  God  knows 
our  transgression.  How  much  clearer  is  our  per- 
ception of  the  nature  of  moral  evil,  when  we  inves- 
tigate it  along  with  Him  whose  eyes  are  a  flame 
of  fire. 

It  is,  ©onsequently,  a  very  solemn  moment,  when 
the  human  spirit  and  the  Eternal  Mind  are  reason- 
ins;  too-ether  about  the  inward  sinfulness.  When 
the  soul  is  shut  up  along  with  the  Holy  One  of 
Isi-ael,  there  are  srreat  searchin2:s  of  heart.  Man  is 
honest  and  anxious  at  such  a  tiuie.  His  usual 
thoughtlessness  and  torpidity  upon  the  subject  of 
religion  leaves  him,  and  he  becomes  a  serious  and 
deeply-interested  creature.  Would  that  the  multi- 
tudes who  listen  so  languidly  to  the  statements  of 
the  pulpit,  upon  these  themes  of  sin  and  guilt, 
mio'ht  be  closeted  ^vith  the  Everlastiiifj^  Judo;e,  in 
silence  and  in  solemn  reflection.  You  who  have 
for  years  l)een  told  of  sin,  but  are,  perhaps,  still  as 
indifferent  regarding  it  as  if  there  were  no  stain 
upon  the  conscience, — would  that  you  might  enter 
into  an  examination  of  yourself,  alone  with  your 
JNIaker.  Then  would  you  become  as  serious,  and  as 
anxious,  as  you  will  be  in  that  moment  when  you 
shall  be  informed  that  the  last  hour  of  your  life 
upon  earth  has  come. 

Another  effect  of  this  "  reasonino;  too-ether  "  with 
God,  respecting  our  character  and  conduct,  is  to 
render  our  views  dlscrimi)iati)ig.     The  action  of 


186  SELF-SCEUTINY    IN    GOd's    PRESENCE. 

tte  minj  is  not  only  intense,  it  is  also  intelligent. 
Strange  as  it  may  sound,  it  is  yet  a  fact,  that  a  re- 
view of  our  past  lives  conducted  under  the  eye  of 
God,  and  with  a  recognition  of  His  presence  and  over- 
si^^lit,  serves  to  deliver  the  raind  from  confusion 
and  panic,  and  to  fill  it  with  a  calm  and  rational 
fear.  This  is  of  great  value.  For,  when  a  man 
begins  to  be  excited  upon  the  subject  of  religion, — 
it  may  be  for  the  first  time,  in  his  unreflecting  and 
heedless  life, — he  is  oftentimes  terribly  excited.  He 
is  now  brought  siiddeiily  into  the  midst  of  the  most 
solemn  things.  That  sin  of  his,  the  enormity  of 
which  he  had  never  seen  before,  now  reveals  itself 
in  a  most  frightful  form,  and  he  feels  as  the  mur- 
derer does  who  wakes  in  the  morning  and  begins 
to  realize  that  he  has  killed  a  man.  That  holy 
Being,  of  whose  holiness  he  had  no  proper  concep- 
tion, now  rises  dim  and  awful  before  his  half-open- 
ed inward  eye,  and  he  trembles  like  the  pagan  be- 
fore the  unknown  God  whom  he  ignorantly  wor- 
ships. That  eternity,  which  he  had  heard  spoken 
of  with  total  indifference,  now  flashes  penal  flames 
in  his  face.  Taken  and  held  in  this  state  of  mind, 
the  transgressor  is  confusedly  as  well  as  terribly 
awakened,  and  he  needs  first  of  all  to  have  this  ex- 
perience clarified,  and  know  precisely  for  what  he 
is  trembling,  and  why.  This  panic  and  consterna- 
tion must  depart,  and  a  calm  intelligent  anxiety 
must  take  its  place.  But  this  cannot  be,  unless  the 
mind  turns  towards  God,  and  invites  His  searching 


SELF  scRUTimr  IN  god's  presence.         187 

scrutiny,  and  His  aid  in  the  search  after  sin.  So 
long  as  we  shrink  away  from  our  Judge,  and  in 
upon  ourselves,  in  these  hours  of  conviction, — so 
long  as  we  deal  only  with  the  workings  of  our  own 
minds,  and  do  not  look  up  and  "  reason  together  " 
with  God, — we  take  the  most  direct  method  of  pro- 
ducing a  blind,  an  obscure,  and  a  selfish  agony. 
We  work  ourselves,  more  and  more,  into  a  mere 
phrenzy  of  excitement.  Some  of  the  most  wretched 
and  fanatical  experience  in  the  history  of  the  Church 
is  tracealde  to  a  solitary  self-brooding,  in  which, 
after  the  sense  of  sin  had  been  awakened,  the  soul 
did  not  discuss  the  matter  with  God. 

For  the  character  and  attributes  of  God,  when 
clearly  seen,  repress  all  fright,  and  produce  that  pe- 
culiar species  of  fear  which  is  tranquil  because  it  is 
deep.  Though  tlie  soul,  in  such  an  hour,  is  conscious 
that  God  is  a  fearful  object  of  sight  for  a  transgress- 
or, yet  it  continues  to  gaze  at  Him  with  an  eager 
straining  eye.  And  in  so  doing,  the  superficial  tre- 
mor and  panic  of  its  first  awakening  to  the  subject 
of  religion  passes  off,  and  gives  place  to  an  intenser 
moral  feeling,  the  calmness  of  which  is  like  the  still- 
ness of  fascination.  Nothing  has  a  finer  effect  upon 
a  company  of  awakened  minds,  than  to  cause  the 
being  and  attributes  of  God,  in  all  their  majesty 
and  purity,  to  I'ise  like  an  orb  within  their  horizon  ; 
and  the  individual  can  do  nothing  more  proper,  or 
more  salutary,  when  once  his  sin  begins  to  disquiet 
him,  and  the  inward  perturbation  commences,  than 


188  SELF-SCRUTESrY    IN    GOD's   PEESENCE. 

to  collect  aud  steady  himself,  in  an  act  of  reflection 
upon  that  very  Being  who  abhors  sin.  Let  no  man, 
in  the  hour  of  conviction  and  moral  fear,  attempt 
to  run  away  from  the  Divine  holiness.  On  the  con- 
trary, let  him  rush  forward  and  throw  himself  down 
prostrate  before  that  Dread  Presence,  and  plead  the 
merits  of  the  Son  of  God,  before  it.  He  that  finds 
his  life  shall  lose  it;  but  he  that  loses  his  life  shall 
iind  it.  Except  a  corn  of  wheat  fall  into  the  ground 
aud  die,  it  remains  a  single  unproductive  corn  of 
wheat ;  but  if  it  die,  it  germinates  and  brings  forth 
much  fruit.  He  who  does  not  avoid  a  contact  be- 
tween the  sin  of  his  soul  and  the  holiness  of  his 
God,  but  on  the  contrary  seeks  to  have  these  two 
things  come  together,  that  each  may  be  understood 
in  its  own  intrinsic  nature  and  quality,  takes  the  only 
safe  course.  He  finds  that,  as  he  knows  God  more 
distinctly,  he  knows  himself  more  distinctly ;  and 
though  as  yet  he  can  see  nothing  but  displeasure 
in  that  holy  countenance,  he  is  possessed  of  a  well- 
defined  experience.  He  knows  that  he  is  wrong, 
and  his  Maker  is  right ;  that  he  is  wicked,  and  that 
God  is  holy.  He  perceives  these  two  fundamental 
facts  with  a  simplicity,  and  a  certainty,  that  admits 
of  no  debate.  The  confusion  and  obscurity  of  his 
mind,  and  particularly  the  queryings  whether  these 
things  are  so,  whether  God  is  so  very  holy  and  man 
is  so  very  sinful,  begin  to  disappear,  like  a  fog  when 
disparted  and  scattered  by  sunrise.  01:>jects  are 
seen  in  their  true  proportions  and  meanings;  riglit 


SELFSCEUTINY    IN    GOD's    PRESENCE.  189 

and  wrong,  the  carnal  mind  and  tbe  spiritual  mind, 
Leaven  and  bell, — all  the  great  contraries  that  per- 
tain to  the  su])ject  of  religion, — are  distinctly  un- 
derstood, and  thus  the  first  step  is  taken  towards 
a  better  state  of  things  in  the  soul. 

Let  no  man,  then,  fear  to  invite  the  scrutiny  of 
God,  in  connection  with  his  own  scrutiny  of  himself. 
He  who  deals  only  with  the  sense  of  duty,  and  the 
operations  of  his  own  mind,  will  find  th;it  these 
themselves  become  more  dim  aad  indistinct,  so  long 
as  the  process  of  examination  is  not  conducted  in 
this  joint  manner;  so  long  as  the  mind  refuses  to 
accept  the  Divine  proposition,  "  Come  now,  and 
let  us  reason  tocjetherr  He,  on  the  other  hand, 
who  endeavors  to  obtain  a  clear  view  of  tbe 
Beino;  asrainst  whom  he  has  sinned,  and  to  feel 
tbe  full  power  of  His  holy  eye  as  well  as  of  His 
holy  law,  will  find  that  his  sensations  and  expe- 
riences are  gaining  a  wonderful  distinctness  and 
intensity  that  will  speedily  bring  the  entire  matter 
to  an  issue. 

H.  For  tlien,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  he  learns 
the  second  lesson  tauixbt  in  tbe  text:  viz.,  that  tlieve 
is  forgiveness  with  God.  Tbough,  in  this  process 
of  joint  examination,  your  sins  be  found  to  l)e  as 
scarlet,  they  shall  be  as  white  as  snow ;  though 
they  ])e  discovered  to  be  red  like  crimson,  they  shall 
be  as  wool. 

If  there  were  no  forgiveness  of  sins,  if  mercy  were 
not  a  manifested  attribute  of  God,  all  self-examina- 

9* 


190  SELF-SCRUTIJSTY    IN    GOD's    PEESENCE, 

tion,  and  especially  all  this  conjoint  divine  scrutiny 
would  be  a  pure  torment  and  a  pure  gratuity.  It 
is  wretchedness  to  know  that  we  are  guilty  sinners, 
but  it  is  the  endless  torment  to  know  that  there  is 
no  forgiveness,  either  here  or  hereafter.  Convince 
a  man  that  he  will  never  be  pardoned,  and  you  shut 
him  up  with  the  spirits  in  prison.  Compel  him  to 
examine  himself  under  the  eye  of  his  God,  while  at 
the  same  time  he  has  no  hope  of  mercy, — and  there 
would  be  nothing  unjust  in  this, — and" you  dis- 
tress him  with  the  keenest  and  most  living  tor- 
ment of  which  a  rational  spirit  is  capable.  Well 
and  natural  was  it,  that  the  earliest  creed  of 
the  Christian  Church  emphasized  the  doctrine  of 
the  Divine  Pity  ;  and  in  all  ages  the  Apostolic 
Symbol  has  called  upon  the  guilt-stricken  hu- 
man soul  to  cry,  "I  believe  in  the  forgiveness 
of  sins." 

We  have  the  amplest  assurance  in  the  whole  writ- 
ten Kevelation  of  God,  hut  ncnohere  else,  that  "  tliere 
is  fo]"giveness  with  Him,  that  He  may  be  feared." 
"  Whoso  confesseth  and  forsaketh  his  sins  shall  find 
mercy ;"  and  only  with  such  an  assurance  as  this  from 
His  own  lips,  could  we  summon  courage  to  look  into 
our  character  and  conduct,  and  invite  God  to  do  the 
same.  But  tlie  text  is  an  exceedingly  explicit  as- 
sertion of  this  great  truth.  The  veiy  same  Being 
who  invites  us  to  reason  with  Him,  and  canvass  the 
subject  of  our  criminality,  in  tho  very  same  breath, 
if  we  may  so  speak,  assures  us  that  He  will  forgive 


SELF-SCRUTINY    IN    GODS    PEESENCE.  191 

all  that  is  found  in  tliis  examination.  And  upon 
such  terms,  cannot  the  criminal  well  afford  to  ex- 
amine into  his  crime?  He  has  a  promise  before- 
hand, that  if  he  will  but  scrutinize  and  confess  his  sin 
it  shall  be  forgiven.  God  would  have  been  simply 
and  strictly  just,  had  He  said  to  liim:  "Go  down 
into  the  depths  of  thy  transgressing  spirit,  see  how 
wicked  thou  hast  been  and  still  art,  and  know  that 
in  my  righteous  severity  I  will  never  pardon  thee, 
world  without  end."  But  instead  of  this,  Pie  says: 
"  Go  down  into  the  de])ths  of  thy  heart,  see  the  trans- 
gression and  the  corruption  all  along  the  line  of  the 
examination,  confess  it  into  my  ear,  and  I  will  make 
the  scarlet  and  crimson  guilt  white  in  the  blood  of 
my  own  Son."  These  declarations  of  Holy  AVrit, 
which  area  direct  verbal  statement  from  the  lips  of 
God,  and  which  specify  distinctly  what  He  will  do 
and  \w\\\  not  do  in  the  matter  of  sin,  teach  us  that 
however  deeply  our  souls  shall  be  found  to  be 
stained,  the  Divine  pity  outruns  and  exceeds  the 
crime.  ''For  as  the  heavens  are  high  above  the 
earth,  so  great  is  his  mercy  towards  them  that  fear 
him.  He  that  spared  not  his  own  Son,  but  deliv- 
ered him  up  for  us  all,  how  shall  he  not  with 
him  also  freely  give  us  all  things  ? "  Here  upon 
earth,  there  is  no  wickedness  that  surpasses  the 
pardoning  love  of  God  in  Christ.  The  words 
which  Shakspeare  puts  into  the  mouth  of  the 
remorseful,  but  ittipBuiteiit^  Danish  king  are  strictly 
true : 


192  SELF-3Cr.UTINY    IN    GOD's   PRESENCE. 

"  Wli.at  if  this  cursed  baud 
Were  thicker  than  itself  with  brother's  blood  ? 
Is  there  not  rain  enough  in  tlie  sweet  heavens 
To  wash  it  white  as  snow  ?     Whereto  serves  mercy, 
But  to  confront  the  visage  of  oifence  ?  "  ' 

Anywhere  this  side  of  the  other  world,  and  at 
any  moment  this  side  of  the  grave,  a  sinner,  if  pen- 
itent (Ijut  penitence  is  not  always  at  his  control), 
may  obtain  forgiveness  for  all  his  sins,  through 
Christ's  blood  of  atonement.  He  must  not  hope  for 
mercy  in  the  future  world,  if  he  neglects  it  here. 
There  are  no  acts  of  pai'dou  passed  in  the  day  of 
judgiueut.  The  utterance  of  Christ  in  that  day  is 
not  the  utterance,  "  Thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee," 
but,  "  Come  ye  blessed,"  or  "  Depart  ye  cursed."  So 
long,  and  only  so  long,  as  there  is  life  there  is  hope, 
and  however  great  may  be  the  conscious  criminality 
of  a  man  while  he  is  under  the  economy  of  R.edemp- 
tion,  and  before  he  is  summoned  to  render  up  his 
last  account,  let  him  not  despair  but  hope  in  Divine 
grace. 

Now,  he  who  has  seriously  "reasoned  together" 
with  God,  respecting  his  own  character,  is  far  better 
prepared  to  find  God  in  the  forgiveness  of  sins,  than 
he  is  who  has  merely  brooded  over  his  own  unhap- 
piness,  Avithout  any  reference  to  the  qualities  and 
claims  of  his  Judge.  It  has  been  a  plain  and  per- 
sonal matter  throus-hout,  and  havino;  now  come  to 
a  clear  and  settled  conviction  that  he  is  a  guilty  sin- 

SiiAKSPEAUE  ;  Himlet,  Act  iii.  So.  4. 


SELF-SCRUTINY    IN    GOD's    PRESENCE.  193 

uer,  lie  turns  directly  to  tlie  great  and  good  Being 
who  stands  immediately  before  liim,  and  prays  to  be 
forgiven,  and  is  forgiven.  One  reason  why  the  soul 
so  often  gropes  days  and  months  without  finding  a 
sin-pardoning  God  lies  in  the  fact,  that  its  thoughts 
and  feelings  respecting  religious  subjects,  and  par- 
ticularly respecting  the  state  of  the  heart,  have 
been  too  vagne  and  indistinct.  They  have  not  had 
an  immediate  and  close  reference  to  that  one  sin^-le 
Being  who  is  most  directly  concerned,  and  who 
alone  can  minister  to  a  mind  diseased.  The  soul  is 
wretched,  and  there  may  be  some  sense  of  sin,  but 
there  is  no  one  to  go  to, — no  one  to  address  with 
an  appealing  cry.  "  Oh  that  I  knew  where  I  might 
find  him,"  is  its  Ian2:ua2:e.  "  Oh  that  I  miirht  come 
even  to  his  seat.  Behold  I  go  forward,  but  he  is  not 
there ;  and  backward,  but  I  cannot  perceive  him." 
But  this  groping  would  cease  were  there  a  clear  view 
of  God.  There  might  not  be  peace  and  a  sense  of  re- 
conciliation immediately;  but  there  would  1)e  a  dis- 
tinct conception  of  the  one  thing  needful  in  oi-dei-  to 
salvation.  This  ^vould  banish  all  other  subjects  and 
objects.  The  eye  would  be  fixed  upon  the  single  fact 
of  sin,  and  the  simple  fact  that  none  but  God  can  for- 
give it.  The  whole  in^val•d  experience  would  thus  l)e 
narrowed  down  to  a  focus.  Simplicity  and  inten- 
sity would  be  introduced  into  the  mental  state,  in- 
stead of  the  previous  confusion  and  vagueness.  So- 
li lo(piy  would  end,  and  prayer,  importunate,  agoniz- 
ing prayer,  would  l)egin.     That  morbid  and  useless 


194  SELF-SCRUTmY    IN    GODS    PEESE]!fCE. 

self-brooding  would  cease,  and  those  strong  cryings 
and  wrestlings  till  day-break  would  commence,  and 
tlie  kingdom  of  heaven  would  suffer  this  violence, 
and  the  violent  would  take  it  by  force.  "  When  I 
Tcept  silence  ;  my  bones  waxed  old,  through  my  roar- 
ing all  the  day  long.  For  day  and  night  thy  hand 
was  heavy  uj^on  me ;  my  moisture  was  turned  into 
the  drought  of  summer.  I  achnoioledged  my  sin 
unto  thee,  and  mine  iniquity  I  no  longer  liid.  I 
said,  I  will  confess  my  transgressions  unto  the 
Lord  ;  and  thou  forgavest  the  iniquity  of  my  sin. 
For  this," — because  this  is  Thy  method  of  salva- 
tion,— "  shall  every  one  that  is  godly  pray  unto 
thee,  in  a  time  when  thou  mayest  be  found." 
(Ps.  xxxii.  3-6.) 

Self-examination,  then,  when  joined  with  a  dis- 
tinct recoo-nition  of  the  Divine  character,  and  a  con- 
scious  sense  of  God's  scrutiny,  paradoxical  as  it  may 
appear,  is  the  surest  means  of  producing  a  firm  con- 
viction in  a  guilty  mind  that  God  is  merciful,  and 
is  the  swiftest  way  of  finding  Him  to  be  so.  Op^ 
posed  as  the  Divine  nature  is  to  sin,  abhorrent  as 
iniquity  is  to  the  pure  mind  of  God,  it  is  neverthe- 
less a  fact,  that  that  sinner  who  goes  directly  into 
this  Dread  Presence  with  all  his  sins  upon  his  head, 
in  order  to  know  them,  to  be  condemned  and  crushed 
by  them,  and  to  confess  them,  is  the  one  who  soon- 
est returns  with  peace  and  hope  in  his  soul.  For, 
he  discovers  that  God  is  as  cordial  and  sincere  in 
His  offer  to  forgive,  as  Pie  is  in  His  threat  to  pun- 


SELF-SCRUTINY   IN   GOD's    PRESENCE.  195 

ish ;  and  having,  to  his  sorrow,  felt  the  reality  and 
power  of  the  Divine  anger,  he  now  to  his  joy  feels 
the  equal  reality  and  power  of  the  Divine  love. 

And  this  is  the  one  great  lesson  which  every 
man  must  learn,  or  perish  forever.  The  trutlif  ill- 
ness of  God,  in  every  respect,  and  in  all  relations, — 
His  stv'ict  JiJelit  1/  to  Ills  ivord,  both  under  the  law 
and  under  the  gospel, — is  a  quality  of  which  every 
one  must  have  a  vivij.!  knowledge  and  certainty,  in 
order  to  salvation.  Men  perish  through  unbelief. 
He  that  doubteth  is  damned.  To  illustrate.  Men 
pass  through  this  life  doubting  and  denying  God's 
abhorrence  of  sin,  and  His  determination  to  punish 
it  forever  and  ever.  Under  the  narcotic  and  stupe- 
fying influence  of  this  doubt  and  denial,  they  re- 
main in  sin,  and  at  death  go  over  into  the  immedi- 
ate presence  of  God,  only  to  discovei'  that  all  His 
statements  respecting  His  determination  upon  this 
subject  are  true, — awfully  and  hopelessly  true. 
They  then  spend  an  eternity,  in  be^vailing  their  in- 
fatuation in  dreaming,  wdiile  here  upon  earth,  that 
the  great  and  holy  God  did  not  mean  what  he 
said. 

Unbelief,  again,  tends  to  death  in  the  other  direc- 
tion, though  it  is  far  less  liable  to  result  in  it.  The 
convicted  and  guilt-smitten  man  sometimes  doubts 
the  truthfulness  of  the  Divine  promise  in  Christ. 
He  spends  days  of  darkness  and  nights  of  woe,  be- 
cause he  is  unbelieving  in  regard  to  God's  compas- 
sion, and  j'eadiness  to  forgive  a  penitent ;  and  when, 


196  SELF-SCEUTINY    IN    GOd's    PRESENCE. 

at  length,  tLe  light  of  the  Divine  countenance  breaks 
•upon  liim,  lie  wonders  tLat  he  was  so  foolish  and 
slow  of  heart  to  believe  all  that  God  himself  had 
said  concerning  the  "multitude"  of  his  tender 
mercies.  Christian  and  Hopeful  lay  long  and  need- 
lessly in  the  dungeon  of  Doubting  Castle,  until  the 
former  remembered  that  the  key  to  all  the  locks 
was  in  his  bosom,  and  had  been  all  the  while.  They 
needed  only  to  take  God  at  his  word.  The  anxious 
and  fearful  soul  must  believe  the  Eternal  Judo-e 
implicitly^  when  he  says :  "  I  will  justify  thee 
through  the  blood  of  Christ."  God  is  truthful 
under  the  gospel,  and  under  the  law ;  in  His  prom- 
ise of  mercy,  and  in  His  threatening  of  eternal  woe. 
And  "  if  we ,  believe  not,  yet  He  abideth  faithful ; 
He  cannot  deny  Himself."  He  hath  promised,  and 
He  hath  threatened  ;  and,  though  heaven  and  earth 
pass  a^vay,  one  jot  or  one  tittle  of  that  promise 
shall  not  fail  in  the  case  of  those  who  coufidiugl}' 
trust  it,  nor  shall  one  iota  or  scintilla  of  the  threat- 
ening fail  in  the  instance  of  those  who  have  reck- 
lessly and  rashly  disbelieved  it. 

In  resj^ect,  then,  to  both  sides  of  the  revelation 
of  the  Divine  character,— in  respect  to  the  threat- 
ening and  the  promise, — men  need  to  have  a  clear 
perception,  and  an  unwavering  belief.  He  that 
doubteth  in  either  direction  is  damned.  He  who 
does  not  believe  that  God  is  truthful,  when  He  de- 
clares that  He  will  "  punish  iniquity,  transgression 
and  sin,"  and  that  those  upon  the  left  hand  shall 


197 


"  go  away  into  everlasting  puuisliment,"  will  per- 
sist iu  sin  nntil  he  passes  the  line  of  probation  and 
be  lost.  And  he  who  does  not  believe  that  God  is 
truthful,  when  He  declares  that  He  will  forgive 
scarlet  and  crimson  sins  through  the  blood  of  Christ, 
will  be  overcome  by  despair  and  be  also  lost.  But 
he  who  believes  both  Divine  statements  with  equal 
certainty,  and  perceives  both  facts  with  distinct 
vision,  will  be  saved. 

From  these  two  lessons  of  the  text,  we  deduce 
the  following  practical  directions : 

1.  First:  In  all  states  of  religious  anxiety,  we 
should  betake  ourselves  instantly  and  directly  to 
God.  There  is  no  other  refas^e  for  the  human  soul 
but  God  in  Christ,  and  if  this  fails  us,  we  must  re- 
nounce all  hope  here  and  hereafter. 

"If  this  fail, 
The  pillared  firinainent  is  rottenness, 
And  eartii's  base  built  on  stubble."  ' 

We  are,  therefore,  from  the  nature  of  the  case, 
shut  up  to  this  course.  Suppose  the  religious 
anxiety  arise  from  a  sense  of  sin,  and  the  fear  of 
retribution.  God  is  the  only  Being  that  can  foi-give 
sins.  To  whom,  then,  can  such  an  one  go  but  unto 
Him  ?  Suppose  the  religious  anxiety  arises  from  a 
sense  of  the  perishing  nature  of  earthly  objects,  and 
the  soul  feels  as  if  all  the  foundation  and  fabric  of 
its  hope  and  comfort  were  rocking  into  irretrievable 

'  MiLTOx  :    Coiuus,  597-599. 


198  SELF-SCRUTINY    EST    GOd's   PRESENCE. 

ruin.  God  is  tlie  only  Being  wlio  can  lielp  in  ttis 
crisis.  In  either  or  in  any  case, — be  it  tLe  anxiety 
of  the  unforgiven,  or  of  the  child  of  God, — what- 
ever be  the  species  of  mental  sorrow,  the  human 
soul  is  by  its  very  circumstances  driven  to  its  Maker, 
or  else  cb'iven  to  destruction. 

What  more  reasonable  course,  therefore,  than  to 
conform  to  the  necessities  of  our  condition.  The 
principal  part  of  wisdom  is  to  take  things  as  they 
are,  and  act  accordingly.  Are  we,  then,  sinners, 
and  in  fear  for  the  final  result  of  our  life  ?  Thou2:h 
it  may  seem  to  us  like  running  into  fire,  we  must 
nevertheless  betake  ourselves  first  and  immediately 
to  that  Being  who  hates  and  punishes  sin.  Though 
we  see  nothing  but  condemnation  and  displeasure 
in  those  holy  eyes,  we  must  nevertheless  approach 
them,  just  and  simply  as  we  are.  We  must  say  with 
king  David  in  a  similar  case,  when  he  had  incurred 
the  displeasure  of  God  :  "  I  am  in  a  great  strait ; 
[yet]  let  me  fall  into  the  hand  of  the  Lord,  for  very 
great  are  his  mercies"  (1  Chron.  xx.  13).  We  must 
sufi'er  the  intolei'able  brightness  to  blind  and  blast 
us  in  our  guiltiness,  and  let  there  be  an  actual  con- 
tact between  the  sin  of  our  soul  and  the  holiness  of 
our  God.  If  we  thus  proceed,  in  accordance  with 
the  facts  of  our  case  and  our  position,  we  shall  meet 
V\dth  a  great  and  joyful  surprise.  Flinging  om*- 
selves  helpless,  and  desj)airlng  of  all  other  help, — 
rashly^  as  it  will  seem  to  us,  flinging  ourselves  off 
from  the   position  where  we  now  are,  and  upon 


ISELF-SCRUTmY    IN    GOD's   PRESENCE.  199 

wliicli  we  must  inevitably  perish,  we  shall  find 
ourselves,  to  our  surprise  and  unspeakable  joy, 
caught  in  everlasting,  paternal  arms.  He  Avho 
loses  his  life, — he  who  dares  to  lose  his  life, — shall 
find  it. 

2.  Secondly:  In  all  our  religious  anxiety,  we 
should  make  a  full  and  plain  statement  of  everything 
to  God.  God  loves  to  hear  the  details  of  our  sin, 
and  our  woe.  The  soul  that  pours  itself  out  as 
water  will  find  that  it  is  not  like  water  spilt  upon 
the  ground,  which  cannot  be  gathered  up  again. 
Even  when  the  story  is  one  of  shame  and  remorse, 
we  find  it  to  be  mental  relief,  patiently  an<l  without 
any  reservation  or  palliation,  to  expose  the  whole 
not  only  to  our  own  eye  but  to  that  of  our  Judge. 
For,  to  this  very  thing  have  we  been  invited.  This 
is  precisely  the  "  reasoning  together  "  -which  God 
proposes  to  us.  God  has  not  offered  clemency  to  a 
sinful  world,  with  the  expectation  or  desire  that 
there  be  on  the  part  of  those  to  whom  it  is  offered, 
such  a  stinted  and  meao:re  confession,  such  a  o-lozinor 
over  and  diminution  of  sin,  as  to  make  that  clem- 
ency appear  a  very  small  matter.  He  well  knows 
the  depth  and  the  immensity  of  the  sin  which  He 
proposes  to  pardon,  and  has  made  provision  accord- 
ingly. In  the  phrase  of  Luther,  it  is  no  painted 
sinner  who  is  to  be  forgiven,  and  it  is  no  painted 
Saviour  who  is  offered.  The  transgression  is  deep 
and  real,  and  the  atonement  is  deep  and  real. 
The  crime  cannot  be  exao:2:erated,  neither  can  the 


200  SELF-SCEUTINY   IN    GOd's   PBESENCE. 

expiation.  He,  therefore,  who  makes  the  plain- 
est and  most  child-like  statement  of  himself  to 
G-od,  acts  most  in  accordance  with  the  mind,  and 
will,  and  gospel  of  God.  If  man  only  be  hearty, 
full,  and  unreserved  in  confession,  he  will  find 
God  to  be  hearty,  full,  and  unreserved  in  absolu- 
tion. 

Man  is  not  straitened  upon  the  side  of  the  Divine 
mercy.  The  obstacle  in  the  way  of  his  salvation  is 
in  himself;  and  the  particular,  fatal  obstacle  consists 
in  the  fact  that  he  does  not  feel  that  he  needs  mei'cy. 
God  in  Christ  stands  ready  to  pardon,  but  man  the 
sinner  stands  up  l^efore  Him  like  the  besotted  crim- 
inal in  our  courts  of  law,  with  no  feeling  upon  the 
sulyect.  The  Judge  assures  him  that  He  has  a 
boundless  gi-ace  and  clemency  to  bestow,  but  the 
stolid  hardened  man  is  not  even  aware  that  he  has 
committed  a  dreadful  crime,  and  needs  grace  and 
clemency.  There  is  food  in  infinite  abundance,  but 
no  hunger  upon  the  part  of  man.  The  water  of  life 
is  flowing  by  in  torrents,  but  men  have  no  thirst. 
In  this  state  of  things,  nothing  can  be  done,  but  to 
pass  a  sentence  of  condemnation.  God  cannot  for- 
give a  being  who  does  not  even  know  that  he  needs 
to  be  forsfiven.  Knowledo;e  then,  self-knowledcre, 
is  the  great  requisite ;  and  the  want  of  it  is  the 
cause  of  perdition.  This  "  reasoning  together"  with 
God,  respecting  our  past  and  present  character  and 
conduct,  is  the  first  step  to  be  taken  by  any  one 
who  would  make  preparation  for  eternity.     As  soon 


SELF-SCRUTINY    IN    GOD's    PRESENCE.  201 

asTve  come  to  a  riglit  understanding  of  our  lost  and 
guilty  condition,  we  shall  cry :  "  Be  merciful  to  me 
a  sinner ;  create  within  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God." 
Without  such  an  understanding, — such  an  intelli- 
gent perception  of  our  sin  and  guilt, — we  never 
shall,  and  we  never  can* 


SIN   IS   SPIRITUAL   SLAVERY 


John  viii.  34. — "  Jesus  answered  them,  Verily,  verily  I  say  unto  you,  who- 
soever committeth  sin  is  the  servant  of  sin." 


The  word  (5oi;/Log)  wliicli  is  translated  "  serv- 
ant," in  the  text,  literally  signifies  a  slave  ;  and  the 
thought  which  our  Lord  actually  conveyed  to  those 
who  heard  Him  is,  "  Whosoever  committeth  sin  is 
the  slave  of  sin."  The  apostle  Peter,  in  that  second 
Epistle  of  his  which  is  so  full  of  terse  and  terrible 
description  of  the  effects  of  unbridled  sensuality 
upon  the  human  will,  expresses  the  same  truth. 
Speaking  of  the  influence  of  those  corrupting  and 
licentious  men  who  have  "  eyes  full  of  adultery,  and 
that  cannot  cease  from  sin,"  he  remarks  that  while 
they  promise  their  dupes  "  liberty,  they  themselves 
are  the  servants  [slaves]  of  corruption :  for  of 
whom  a  man  is  overcome,  of  the  same  is  he  hrouglit 
in  bondage.'''' 

Such  passages  as  these,  of  which  there  are  a  great 
number  in  the  Bible,  direct  attention  to  the  fact 
that  sin  contains  an  element  of  servitude, — that  in 
the  very  act  of  transgressing  the  law  of  God  there 


SIN    IS    SPIKITUAL    SLAVERY.  203 

is  a  reflex  action  of  the  human  will  upon  itself, 
"whereby  it  becomes  less  able  than  before  to  keep 
that  law.  Sin  is  the  suicidal  action  of  the  human 
will.  It  destroys  the  power  to  do  right,  which  is 
man's  true  freedom.  The  effect  of  vicious  habit  in 
diminishing  a  man's  ability  to  resist  temptation  is 
proverbial.  But  what  is  habit  but  a  constant  rep- 
etition of  wrong  decisions,  every  single  one  of 
which  reacts  upon  the  faculty  that  put  them  forth, 
and  renders  it  less  stronij:  and  less  eners-etic,  to  do 
the  contrary.  Has  the  old  debauchee,  just  totter- 
ing into  hull,  as  much  power  of  active  resistance 
against  the  sin  which  has  now  ruined  him,  as  the 
youth  has  who  is  just  beginning  to  run  that  aw- 
ful career  ?  Can  any  being  do  a  wrong  act,  and  be 
as  sound  in  his  will  and  as  spiritually  strong,  after 
it,  as  he  was  before  it?  Did  that  abuse  of  free 
agency  by  Adam,  whereby  the  sin  of  the  race  was 
originated,  leave  the  agent  as  it  found  him, — unin- 
jui'ed  and  undebilitated  in  his  voluntary  power  ? 

The  truth  and  tact  is,  that  sin  in  and  by  it-^i  own 
nature  and  operations,  tends  to  destroy  all  vi^iuous 
force,  all  holy  enei-gy,  in  any  moral  being.  T'he  ex- 
cess of  will  to  sin  is  the  same  as  the  defect  of  will 
to  holiness.  The  deo^ree  of  intensitv  wit)-  which 
any  man  loves  and  inclines  to  evil  is  the  mt.-'.sure  of 
the  amount  of  power  to  good  which  he  has  thereby 
lost.  And  if  the  intensity  be  total,  then  the  loss  is 
entire.  Total  depravity  carries  with  it  total  impo- 
tence and  helplessness.     The  more  carefully  we  ob- 


204  SIN    IS    SPIRITUAL    SLAVEEY. 

ser\  e  the  workings  of  our  own  wills,  the  surer  will 
be  our  conviction  that  they  can  ruin  themselves. 
We  shall  indeed  find  that  they  cannot  \)q  forced^  or 
ruined  from  the  outside.  But,  if  we  watch  the  in- 
fluence upon  the  will  itself ^  of  its  own  wrong  decis- 
ions, its  own  yielding  to  temptations,  we  shall  dis- 
cover that  the  voluntary  faculty  may  be  ruined  from 
within;  may  be  made  im2:)otent  to  good  by  its  own 
action  ;  may  surrender  itself  with  such  an  intensity 
and  entireness  to  appetite,  passion,  and  self-love, 
that  it  becomes  unable  to  reverse  itself,  and  over- 
come its  own  wrong  disposition  and  direction. 
And  yet  there  is  no  cow])ulsion,  from  first  to  last,  in 
the  process.  The  man  follows  himself  He  pursues 
his  own  inclination.  He  has  his  own  way  and  does 
as  he  pleases.  He  loves  what  he  inclines  to  love, 
and  hates  what  he  inclines  to  hate.  Neither  God, 
nor  the  world,  nor  Satan  himself,  force  him  to  do 
wrong.  Sin  is  the  most  spontaneous  of  self-motion. 
But  self-motion  has  consequences  as  much  as  any 
other  motion.  Because  transgression  is  a  <96'//'-deter- 
mined  act,  it  does  not  follow  that  it  has  no  reaction 
and  results,  but  leaves  the  will  precisely  as  it  found 
it.  It  is  strictly  true  that  man  was  not  necessitated 
to  apostatize ;  but  it  is  equally  true  that  if  by  his 
own  self-decision  he  should  apostatize,  he  could  not 
then  and  afterwards  be  as  he  was  before.  He  would 
lose  a  hnotvledge  of  God  and  divine  things  which 
he  could  never  regain  of  himself  And  he  would 
lose  a  spiritual  i)oioer  which  he  could  never  again 


SIN   IS    SPIRITUAL    SLAVEEY. 


205 


recover  of  himself.  Tlie  ])onda2:e  of  wliich  Clirist 
speaks,  when  He  says,  "  Whosoever  committeth  sin 
is  the  slave  of  sin,"  is  an  effect  within  the  soul  itself 
of  an  unforced  act  of  self-will,  and  therefore  is  as 
truly  guilt  as  any  other  result  or  product  of  self- 
will, — as  spiritual  blindness,  or  spiritual  hardness, 
or  any  other  of  the  qualities  of  sin.  Whatever 
springs  from  will,  we  are  responsiljle  for.  The 
drunkard's  bondage  and  powerlessness  issues  from 
his  own  inclination  and  self-indulgence,  and  there- 
fore the  bondage  and  impotence  is  no  excuse  for 
Ills  vice.  Man's  inability  1o  love  God  supremely 
results  from  his  intense  self-will  and  self-love ;  and 
therefore  his  impotence  is  a  part  and  element  of 
his  sin,  and  not  an  excuse  for  it. 


"  If  w  cakiiess  may  excuse, 
What  murderer,  what  truitoi',  i)arficicle, 
Incestuous,  sacrilegious,  may  not  plead  it? 
All  wickedness  is  weakness."  ' 


'  Mii.Tox  :  Samson  Agonistes, 
8n2-8:}4.— One  key  to  the  solu- 
ti(Hi  of  the  i)rol)lein,  how  there 
can  be  btmdnge  in  the  very  seat  of 
freedoii), — how  man  can  he  re- 
sponsible for  sin,  yet  heli)less  in 
it, — is  to  be  found  in  tliis  fact  of 
a  rellex  action  of  the  will  n])on 
itself,  or,  a  reaction  of  self-aotion. 
riiilosopliical  speculation  upon 
the  nature  of  the  human  will  has 
not,  hitiierto,  taken  this  fact  suf- 
ficiently into  account.  The  fol- 
lowing extracts  corroborate  the 
view  presented  above.  "My 
ti^ill  the  enemy  held,  and  thcnrc 
had  made  a  chain  for  me,  and 
Louiul  mo.  For,  of  a  perverse 
will  comes    lu»t ;     and    a    lust 

10 


yielded  to  becomes  custom; 
and  custom  not  resisted  becomes 
necextiity.  By  which  links,  as  it 
were,  joined  together  as  in  a 
ciiaiii,  a  iiard  bondage  held  me  en- 
thralled." Augustixe:  Confes- 
sions, VIII.  V.  10.  "  Every  de- 
gree of  inclination  contrary  to 
duty,  which  is  and  must  be  sinful, 
iniplies  and  involves  an  eipial  de- 
gree of  (litiiculty  and  inability  to 
obey.  For,  indeed,  such  inclina- 
tion of  the  heait  to  disobey,  and 
the  difficulty  or  inability  to  obey, 
are  precisely  one  and  the  same. 
This  kind  of  difficulty  or  inability, 
therefore,  always  is  great  accord- 
ing to  the  strength  and  fixedness 
of  the  inclination  to  disobey  ;  aad 


206 


SIK    IS    SPIEITUAL    SLAVEKY. 


The  doctrine,  then,  Avliich  is  taught  m  the  text, 
is  the  truth  that  sin  is  sjm'ltual  slavery  ;  and  it  is 
to  the  proof  and  illustration  of  this  position  that 
we  invite  attention. 

The  term  "  spiritual "  is  too  often  taken  to  mean 
unreal,  fanciful,  figurative.  For  man  is  earthly 
in  his  views  as  well  as  in  his  feeling-s,  and  therefore 
regards  visible  and  material  things  as  the  emphatic 
realities.  Hence  he  employs  material  objects  as  the 
ultimate  standard,  l)y  which  he  measures  the  real- 
ity of  all  other  things.  The  natural  man  has  more 
consciousness  of  his  body,  than  he  has  of  his  soul ; 
more  sense  of  this  world,  than  of  the  other.  Hence 
we  find  that  the  carnal  man  expresses  his  concep- 
tion of  spiritual  things,  by  transferring  to  them,  in 
a  weak  and  secondary  signification,  words  Avhich  he 
applies  in  a  strong  and  vivid  way  only  to  material 
objects.     He  speaks  of  the  "joy"  of  the  spirit,  but 


it  becomes  total  and  absolute  [ina- 
bility], wlien  the  heart  is  totally 
corrupt  and  wholly  opposed  to 
obedience.  .  .  Ko  man  can  act 
contrary  to  liis  |)resent  inclination 
or  clioice.  But  who  ever  imai^- 
ined  that  tliis  rendered  his  incli- 
nation and  choice  innocent  and 
blamele8S,  however  wrong  and 
nnreasonable  it  might  be."  Sam- 
uel Hopkins  :  Works,  I.  233-235. 
"Moral  inability"  is  tlie  being 
"unable  to  be  willing."  Ed- 
WAKDs:  Freedom  of  tlie  Will, 
Part  I,  sect.  iv.  "Propensities," 
— says  a  writer  very  different 
from  those  above  quoted, — -"that 
are  easily  surmounted  lead  us  un- 
resistingly on  ;  we  yield  to  temp- 


tations so  trivial  tbat  we  despise 
their  danger.  And  so  we  fall 
into  perilous  situations  from 
which  we  might  easily  liave  pre- 
served ourselves,  but  from  which 
we  now  tind  it  impossible  to  ex- 
tricate ourselves  without  eftorts 
so  superhuman  as  to  terrify  us, 
and  we  finally  fall  into  the  al)yss, 
saying  to  the  Almigbty,  '  Wl)y 
hast  Thou  made  me  so  weak?' 
But  notwithstanding  our  vain 
pretext,  He  addresses  our  con- 
science, saying,  '  I  have  made 
thee  too  weak  to  rise  from  the  pit, 
because  I  made  tiiee  ntrong 
enough  not  to  fall  therein.'' " 
RoussKAU  :  Confessions,  Book  II. 


SIN    IS    SPIRITUAL    SLAVERY.  207 

it  is  not  such  a  reality  for  liim  as  is  the  "joy"  of 
the  body.  He  speaks  of  the  "  pain  "  of  the  spirit, 
but  it  has  not  such  a  poignancy  for  him  as  that  an- 
guish which  thrills  through  his  muscles  and  nerves. 
He  knows  that  the  "  death  "  of  the  body  is  a  ter- 
rible event,  but  transfers  the  word  "  death "  to 
the  spirit  with  a  vague  and  feeble  meaning,  not 
realiziu2:  that  the  second  death  is  more  awful  than 
the  first,  and  is  accompanied  with  a  spiritual  dis- 
tress compared  ^v'itli  which,  the  shai'pest  agony  of 
material  dissolution  would  be  a  relief  He  under- 
stands what  is  meant  by  the  "  life  "  of  the  body, 
but  when  he  hears  the  "  eternal  life  "  of  the  spirit 
spoken  of,  or  when  he  reads  of  it  in  the  Bible,  it  is 
with  the  feeling  that  it  cannot  Tje  so  real  and  life- 
like as  that  vital  principle  whose  currents  impart 
vigor  and  warmth  to  his  bodily  frame.  And  yet, 
the  life  of  the  spirit  is  more  intensely  real  than  the 
life  of  the  body  is;  for  it  has  power  to  overrule 
and  absorb  it.  Spiritual  life,  Avhen  iu  full  play, 
is  bliss  ineffable.  It  translates  man  into  the  third 
heavens,  where  the  fii^shly  life  is  lost  sight  of  en- 
tirely, <^nd  the  l)eing,  like  St.  Paul,  does  not  know 
whether  lie  is  in  tli"  l)ody  or  out  of  the  body. 

The  natural  miivl  is  deceived.  Spirit  has  in  it 
more  of  reality  than  matter  has ;  because  it  is  an 
immortal  and  indestructil)le  essence,  while  matter 
is  neither.  Spiritual  things  are  more  real  than  vis- 
ible tilings ;  because  they  are  eternal,  and  eternity 
is   more   real   than    time.     Statements    respecting 


208  SIN   IS   SPIRITUAL    SLAVERY. 

spiritual  objects,  therefore,  are  more  solemnly  true 
than  any  that  relate  to  material  things.  Invisible 
and  spiritual  realities,  therefore,  are  the  standard 
by  which  all  others  should  be  tried ;  and  human 
language  when  applied  to  them,  instead  of  express- 
ing too  much,  expresses  too  little.  The  imagery 
and  phraseology  by  which  the  Scriptures  describe 
the  glory  of  God,  the  excellence  of  holiness,  and  the 
bliss  of  heaven,  on  the  one  side,  and  the  sinfulness 
of  sin  with  the  woe  of  hell,  on  the  other,  come  short 
of  the  sober  and  actual  matter  of  fact. 

We  should,  therefore,  beware  of  the  error  to 
which  in  our  unspirituality  we  are  specially  liable ; 
and  when  we  hear  Christ  assert  that  "  whosoever 
committeth  sin  is  the  slave  of  sin,"  we  should  be- 
lieve and  kno'W,  that  these  words  are  not  extrava- 
gant, and  contain  no  subtrahend, — that  they  indi- 
cate a  self-enslavement  of  the  human  will  which  is 
so  real,  so  total,  and  so  absolute,  as  to  necessitate 
the  renewing  grace  of  God  in  order  to  deliverance 
from  it. 

This  bondage  to  sin  may  be  discovered  by  every 
man.  It  must  be  discovered,  before  one  can  cry, 
"  Save  me  or  I  perish."  It  must  be  discovered,  before 
one  can  feelingly  assent  to  Christ's  words,  "  With- 
out me  ye  can  do  nothing."  It  must  be  discovered, 
before  one  can  understand  the  Christian  paradox, 
"  When  I  am  weak,  then  am  I  strong."  To  aid  the 
mind,  in  coming  to  the  conscious  experience  of  the 
truth  taught  in  the  text,  we  remark: 


Sm   IS    SPIRITUAL    SLAVERY.  209 

L  Sin  is  spiritual  slavery,  if  viewed  in  refer- 
ence to  man's  sense  of  ohligatiori  to  he  iJerfectly 
liohj. 

The  obligation  to  be  holy,  just,  and  good,  as  God 
is,  rests  upon  every  rational  being.  Every  man 
knows,  or  may  know,  that  he  ought  to  be  perfect 
as  his  Father  in  heaven  is  perfect,  and  that  he  is  a 
debtor  to  this  obligation  until  he  has/«//y  met  it. 
Hence  even  the  holiest  of  men  are  conscious  of  sin, 
because  they  are  not  completely  up  to  the  mark  of 
this  hidi  callins:  of  God.  For,  the  sense  of  this 
obligation  is  an  exceeding  broad  one, — like  the  law 
itself  which  it  includes  and  enforces.  The  feeling 
of  duty  will  not  let  us  off,  with  the  performance  of 
only  a  part  of  our  duty.  Its  utterance  is  :  "Verily 
I  say  unto  you,  till  heaven  and  earth  pass,  one  jot 
or  one  tittle  shall  in  no  wise  pass  from  the  law  till 
all  be  fulfilled."  Law  spreads  itself  over  the  whole 
surface  and  course  of  our  lives,  and  insists  impera- 
tively that  every  part  and  particle  of  them  be  pure 
and  holy. 

Again,  this  sense  of  obligation  to  be  perfect  as 
God  is  perfect,  is  exceedingly  deep.  It  is  the  most 
])rofound  sense  of  which  man  is  possessed,  for  it 
outlives  all  others.  The  feeling  of  duty  to  God's- 
law  remains  in  a  man's  mind  either  to  bless  him  or 
to  curse  him,  when  all  other  feelings  depart.  In 
the  hour  of  death,  when  all  the  varied  passions  and 
experiences  which  have  engrossed  the  man  his 
whole  lifetime  are  dying  out  of  the  soul,  and  are 


210  Sm   IS    SPIEITUAL    SLAVERY. 

disappearing,  one  after  another,  like  signal-lights 
in  the  deepening  darkness,  this  one  particular  feel- 
ing of  what  he  owes  to  the  Divine  and  the  Eter- 
nal hiw  remains  behind,  and  grows  more  vivid 
and  painful,  as  all  others  grow  dimmer  and  dim- 
mer. And  therefore  it  is,  that  in  this  solemn 
hour  man  forgets  whether  he  has  been  happy  or 
unliappy,  successful  or  unsuccessful,  in  the  world, 
and  remembers  only  that  he  has  been  a  sinner  in 
it.  And  therefore  it  is,  that  a  man's  thoughts, 
when  he  is  upon  his  death-bed,  do  not  settle  upon 
his  worldly  matters,  but  upon  his  sin.  It  is  because 
the  human  conscience  is  the  very  core  and  centre 
of  the  human  beincr,  and  its  sense  of  obliii;ation  to 
be  holy  is  deeper  than  all  other  senses  and  sensa- 
tions, that  we  hear  the  dying  man  say  what  the 
living  and  prosperous  man  is  not  inclined  to  say  : 
"  I  have  been  wicked ;  I  have  been  a  sinner  in  the 
earth." 

Now  it  might  seem,  at  first  sight,  that  tliis  broad, 
deejD,  and  abiding  sense  of  obligation  would  be 
sufficient  to  overcome  man's  love  of  sin,  and  bring 
him  up  to  the  discharge  of  duty, — would  be  power- 
ful enou2;h  to  subdue  his  self-will.  Can  it  be  that 
this  strong  and  steady  draft  of  conscience, — strong 
and  steady  as  gravitation, — will  ultimately  prove 
ineffectual?  Is  not  truth  mighty,  and  must  it  not 
finally  prevail,  to  the  pulling  down  of  the  strongliold 
which  Satan  has  in  the  human  heart?  So  some 
So  some  men  claim,  in  opposition  to 


SIN   TS    SPIEITUAL    SLAVERY.  211 

the  doctrine  of  Divine  influences  and  of  regenera- 
tion by  the  Holy  Ghost. 

We  are  willing  to  appeal  to  actual  experience, 
in  order  to  settle  the  point.  And  we  affirm  in  the 
outset,  that  exactly  in  jiroportion  as  a  man  hears  the 
voice  of  conscience  sounding  its  law  within  his 
breast,  does  he  become  aware,  not  of  the  strength 
but,  of  the  bondage  of  his  will,  and  that  in  propor- 
tion as  this  sense  of  obligation  to  h^,  'perfecthj  holy 
rises  in  his  sonl,  all  hope  or  expectation  of  ever 
becoming  so  by  his  own  power  sets  in  thick  night. 

In  our  careless  nnawakened  state,  which  is  our 
ordinary  state,  we  sin  on  from  day  to  day,  just  as 
we  live  on  from  day  to  day,  without  being  distinctly 
aware  of  it.  A  healthy  man  does  not  go  about, 
holding  his  fingers  upon  his  wrist,  and  counting 
every  pulse ;  and  neither  does  a  sinful  man,  as  he 
walks  these  streets  and  transacts  all  this  business, 
think  of  and  sum  up  the  multitude  of  his  trans- 
gressions. And  yet,  that  pulse  all  the  while  beats 
none  the  less  ;  and  yet,  that  will  all  the  while  trans- 
gresses none  the  less.  So  long  as  conscience  is 
asleep,  sin  is  pleasant.  The  sinful  activity  goes  on 
without  notice,  we  ai'e  happy  in  sin,  and  we  do 
not  feel  that  it  is  slavery  of  the  will.  Though  the 
chains  are  actually  about  us,  yet  they  do  not  gall 
us.  In  this  condition,  which  is  that  of  eveiy 
unawakened  sinner,  we  are  not  conscious  of  the 
"  bondnge  of  corruption."  In  the  phrase  of  St. 
Paul,  "  we  are  alive  without  the  law."     We  have 


213  Sm   IS    SPIEITTJAL    SLAVERY. 

no  feeling  sense  of  duty,  and  of  course  have  no 
feelins:  sense  of  sin.  And  it  is  in  this  state  of 
things,  that  arguments  are  framed  to  prove  the 
mightiness  of  mere  conscience,  and  the  power  of 
bare  truth  and  moral  obligation,  over  the  perverse 
human  heart  and  will. 

But  the  Spirit  of  God  awakens  the  conscience; 
that  sense  of  obligation  to  \>q  'perfectly  holy  -^^'hich 
has  hitherto  slept  now  starts  up,  and  begins  to  form 
an  estimate  of  what  has  been  done  in  reference  to 
it.  The  man  hears  the  authoritative  and  startlino; 
law  :  "  Thou  shalt  be  perfect,  as  God  is  "  And  now, 
at  this  very  instant  and  point,  begins  the  conscious- 
ness of  enslavement, — of  being,  in  the  expressive 
phrase  of  Scripture,  ^'- sold  under  sin."  Now  the 
commandment  "  comes,"  shows  us  first  what  we 
ought  to  be  and  then  what  we  actually  are,  and 
we  "  die."  ^  All  moral  strensrth  dies  out  of  us. 
The  muscle  has  been  cut  by  the  sword  of  truth,  and 
the  limb  drops  helpless  by  the  side.  For,  we  find 
that  the  oblio-ation  is  immense.  It  extends  to  all 
our  outward  acts ;  and  having  covered  the  whole  of 
this  great  surface,  it  then  strikes  inward  and  reaches 
to  every  thought  of  the  mind,  and  every  emotion 
of  the  heart,  and  every  motive  of  the  will.  We 
discover  that  we  are  under  obligation  at  every  con- 
ceivable point  in  our  being  and  in  our  history,  but 
that  we  have  not  met  obligation  at  a  single  point. 
When  we  see  that  the  law  of  God  is  broad  and 

'  Romans  vii.  9-11. 


SIN    IS    SPIRITUAL    SLAVERY.  213 

deep,  and  that  sin  is  equally  broad  and  deep  within 
us ;  when  we  learn  that  we  have  never  thought  one 
single  holy  thought,  nor  felt  one  single  holy  feeling, 
nor  done  one  single  holy  deed,  because  self-love  is 
the  root  and  princi[)le  of  all  our  work,  and  we  have 
never  purposed  or  desired  to  please  God  by  any 
one  of  our  actions;  when  we  find  that  everything 
has  been  required,  and  that  absolutely  nothing 
has  been  done,  that  we  are  bound  to  be  perfectly 
holy  this  very  instant,  and  as  matter  of  fact  are 
totally  sinful,  we  kno\v  in  a  most  aifecting  man- 
ner that  "  whosoever  committeth  sin  is  the  slave 
of  sin". 

But  suppose  that  after  this  disheartening  and 
weakening  discovery  of  the  depth  and  extent  of 
our  sinfulness,  we  proceed  to  take  the  second  step, 
and  attempt  to  extirpate  it.  Suppose  that  after 
coming  to  a  consciousnevss  of  all  this  obligation 
resting  upon  us,  we  endeavor  to  comply  with  it. 
This  renders  us  still  more  painfully  sensible  of  the 
truth  of  our  Saviour's  declaration.  Even  the  re 
generated  man,  who  in  this  endeavor  has  the  aid  of 
God,  is  mournfully  conscious  that  sin  is  the  enslave- 
ment of  the  human  will.  Tliouc-h  he  has  been 
freed  su1)Stantially,  he  feels  that  the  fragments  of 
the  chains  are  upon  him  still.  Though  the  love  of 
God  is  the  predominant  principle  within  him,  yet 
the  lusts  and  propensities  of  the  old  nature  con- 
tinually start  \\\)  like  devils,  and  tug  at  the  spirit, 
to  draf?  it  down  to  its  old  bondaire.     But  that  man 

10* 


514  SIN   IS    SPIKITUAL    SLAVERY. 

who  attempts  to  overcome  sin,  witliout  first  crying, 
''  Create  within  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God,"  feels 
still  more  deeply  that  sin  is  spiritual  slavery. 
When  lie  comes  to  know  sin  in  reference  to  the  ob- 
ligation to  be  perfectly  holy,  it  is  with  vividness 
and  hopelessness.  He  sees  distinctly  that  he  ought 
to  l)e  a  perfectly  good  being  instantaneously.  This 
point  is  clear.  But  instead  of  looking  up  to  the 
hills  whence  cometh  his  help,  he  begins,  in  a  cold 
legal  and  loveless  temper,  to  draw  upon  his  own 
resources.  The  first  step  is  to  regulate  his  external 
conduct  by  the  Divine  law.  He  tries  to  put  a 
bridle  upon  his  tongue,  and  to  walk  carefully  before 
his  fellow-men.  He  fails  to  do  even  this  small 
outside  thing,  and  is  filled  with  discouragement 
and  despondency. 

But  the  sense  of  duty  reaches  beyond  the  exter- 
nal conduct,  and  the  law  of  God  pierces  like  the 
two-edged  sword  of  an  executioner,  and  discerns 
the  thoughts  and  motives  of  the  heart.  Sin  begins 
to  be  seen  in  its  relation  to  the  inner  man,  and  he 
attempts  again  to  reform  and  change  the  feelings 
and  afi^ections  of  his  soul.  He  strives  to  wring  the 
gall  of  bitterness  out  of  his  own  heart,  with  his 
own  hands.  But  he  fails  utterly.  As  he  resolves, 
and  breaks  his  resolutions;  as  he  finds  evil  thoughts 
and  feelings  continually  coming  up  from  the  deep 
places  of  his  heart ;  he  discovers  his  spiritual  impo- 
tence,— his  lack  of  control  over  what  is  deepest, 
most  intimate,  and  most  fundamental  in  his  own 


SIJS"    IS    SPIRITUAL    SLAVERY.  215 

cliaracter, — and  cries  out :  "  I  am  a  slave,  1  am  a 
slave  to  myself." 

If  then,  you  would  know  from  immediate  con- 
sciousness that  "  whosoever  committeth  sin  is  the 
slave  of  sin,"  simply  view  sin  in  the  light  of  that 
obligation  to  be  lyerfectly  pure  and  lioly  which 
necessarily,  and  forever,  rests  upon  a  responsible 
being.  If  you  would  know  that  spiritual  slavery 
is  no  extravagant  and  unmeaning  phrase,  but 
denotes  a  most  real  and  helpless  l)ondage,  endeavor 
to  get  entirely  rid  of  sin,  and  to  be  peifect  as  the 
spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect. 

n.  Sin  is  spiritual  slavery,  if  viewed  in  reference 
to  the  aspirations  of  the  human  soul. 

Theology  makes  a  distinction  between  common 
and  special  grace, — l)etween  those  ordinary  influen- 
ces of  the  Divine  Spirit  which  rouse  the  conscience, 
and  awaken  some  transient  aspirations  after  re- 
ligion, and  those  extraordinary  influences  Avhich 
actually  renew  the  heart  and  will.  In  speaking, 
then,  of  the  aspirations  of  the  Inunan  soul,  reference 
is  had  to  all  those  serious  impressions,  and  those 
painful  anxieties  concerning  salvation,  which  re- 
quire to  l)e  followed  up  by  a  yet  mightier  po\ver 
from  God,  to  prevent  their  being  entirely  sup- 
pressed again,  as  they  are  in  a  multitude  of  in- 
stances, l)y  the  strong  love  of  sin  and  the  world. 
For  thouo-li  man  has  Allien  into  a  state  of  death 
in  trespasses  and  sins,  so  that  if  cut  off  from  every 
species  of  Divine  influence,  and  left  entirehj  to  him- 


216  SIN    IS    SPIRITUAL    SLAVERY. 

self,  he  would  never  reach  out  after  anything  but 
the  sin  which  he  loves,  yet  through  the  common 
influences  of  the  Spirit  of  Grace,  and  the  ordinary 
workings  of  a  rational  nature  not  yet  reprobated, 
he  is  at  times  the  subject  of  internal  stirrings  and 
aspirations  that  indicate  the  greatness  and  glory 
of  the  heights  whence  he  fell.  Under  the  power 
of  an  awakened  conscience,  and  feeling  the  empti- 
ness of  the  world,  and  the  aching  void  within  him, 
man  wishes  for  something  better  than  he  has,  or 
than  he  is.  The  minds  of  the  more  thoughtful  of 
the  ancient  pagans  were  the  subjects  of  these  im- 
pulses, and  aspirations ;  and  they  confess  their 
utter  inability  to  realize  them.  They  are  expressed 
upon  every  page  of  Plato,  and  it  is  not  surpi'ising 
that  some  of  the  Christian  Fathers  should  have 
deemed  Platonism,  as  well  as  Judaism,  to  be  a  prep- 
aration for  Christianity,  by  its  bringing  man  to 
a  sense  of  his  need  of  redemption.  And  it  would 
stimulate  Christians  in  their  efforts  to  give  revealed 
religion  to  the  heathen,  did  they  ponder  the  faci 
which  the  journals  of  the  missionary  sometimes  dis 
close,  that  the  Divine  Spirit  is  brooding  with  His 
common  and  preparatory  influence  over  the  chaos 
of  Paganism,  and  that  here  and  there  the  heathen 
mind  faintly  aspires  to  be  freed  from  the  bond- 
age of  corruption, — that  dim  stirrings,  impulses, 
and  wishes  for  deliverance,  are  awake  in  the  dark 
heart  of  Pao-anism,  but  that  owino;  to  the  strenorth 
and    inveteracy   of    sin   in    that    heart   they    will 


SIN    IS    SPIKITUAL    SLAVERY.  217 

prove  ineffectual  to  salvation,  unless  the  gospel  is 
preached,  and  the  Holy  Spirit  is  specially  poured 
out  in  answer  to  the  prayers  of  Cliristians. 

Now,  all  these  phenomena  in  the  human  soul  go 
to  show  the  rigid  bondage  of  sin,  and  to  prove  that 
sin  has  an  element  of  servitude  in  it.  For  when 
these  impulses,  wishes,  and  aspirations  are  awaken- 
ed, and  tlie  man  discovers  that  he  is  unable  to  real- 
ize them  in  actual  character  and  con^^uct,  he  is 
^vretchedly  and  thoroughly  conscious  that  "  whoso- 
ever committeth  sin  is  the  slave  of  sin."  The  im- 
mortal, heaven-descended  spirit,  feeling  the  kindling 
touch  of  truth  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  thrills 
under  it,  and  essays  to  soar.  But  sin  hangs  heavy 
upon  it,  and  it  cannot  lift  itself  from  the  earth. 
Never  is  man  so  sensible  of  his  enslavement  and 
his  helj^lessness,  as  when  he  has  a  wish  but  has  no 
will} 

Look,  for  illustration,  at  the  aspirations  of  the 
drunkard  to  h^i  delivered  from  the  vice  that  easily 
besets  him.  In  his  sober  moments,  they  come 
tliick  and  fast,  and  during  his  sobriety,  and  while 
under  the  lashings  of  conscience,  he  wishes,  nay, 
even  longs,  to  be  freed  from  drunkenness.  It  may 
be,  that  under  the  impulse  of  these  aspirations  he 
resolves  never  to  drink  again.  It  may  be,  that 
amid  the  buoyancy  that  naturally  accompanies  the 


'  Some  nf  tlie  Sclioolmen  (lis-      former,  velleitas,  and  tlie  latter, 
tirifiuislied  carefully  between  tlio      voluntas. 
two  tliinj's,  and  denuminated  the 


218  Sn^    IS    SPIRITUAL    SLAVERY. 

springing  of  hope  and  longing  in  tLe  human  soul, 
he  for  a  time  seems  to  himself  to  be  actually  rising 
up  from  his  "  wallowing  in  the  mire,"  and  supposes 
that  he  shall  soon  regain  his  primitive  condition  of 
temperance.  But  the  sin  is  strong;  for  the  appetite 
that  feeds  it  is  in  his  blood.  Temptation  with  its 
witching  solicitation  comes  before  the  will, — the 
weak,  selfenslav'ed  will.  He  asjyires  to  resist,  but 
will  not;  the  spirit  ivould  soar,  but  the  flesh  will 
creep;  the  spirit  has  the  wisli^  but  the  flesh  has 
the  'will  j  the  man  longs  to  be  sober,  but  actually 
is  and  remains  a  drunkard.  And  never, — be  it 
noticed, — never  is  he  more  thorouglily  conscious 
of  being  a  slave  to  himself,  than  when  he  thus 
ineffectually  aspires  and  wishes  to  be  delivered 
from  himself 

What  has  been  said  of  drunkenness,  and  the 
aspiration  to  be  freed  from  it,  applies  with  full  force 
to  all  the  sin  and  all  the  aspirations  of  the  human 
soul.  There  is  no  independent  and  self  realizing 
power  in  a  mere  aspiration.  No  man  overcomes 
even  his  vices,  except  as  he  is  assisted  by  the  com- 
mon grace  of  God.  The  self-reliant  man  invariably 
relapses  into  his  old  habits.  He  who  thinks  he 
stands  is  sure  to  fall.  But  when,  under  the  influ- 
ence of  God's  common  grace,  a  man  aspires  to  be 
freed  from  the  deepest  of  all  sin,  because  it  is  the 
source  of  all  particular  acts  of  transgression, — when 
he  attempts  to  overcome  and  extii'pate  the  original 
and  inveterate  depravity  of  his  heart, — he  feels  his 


SIN   IS    SPIEITUAL    SLAVERY.  219 

bondage  more  thoroughly  than  ever.  If  it  is 
wretchedness  for  the  drunkard  to  aspire  after  free- 
dom fi-om  only  a  single  vice,  and  fail  of  reaching 
it,  is  it  not  the  depth  of  woe,  when  a  man  comes  to 
know  "  the  plague  of  his  heart,"  and  his  utter 
inability  to  cleanse  and  cure  it  ?  In  this  case,  the 
bondage  of  self-will  is  found  to  be  absolute. 

At  first  sight,  it  might  seem  as  if  these  wishes 
and  aspirations  of  the  human  spirit,  faint  though 
they  be,  are  proof  that  man  is  not  totally  depraved, 
and  that  his  will  is  not  helplessly  enslaved.  So 
some  men  argue.  But  they  foi-get,  that  these  aspi- 
rations and  wishes  are  never  realized.  Thei-e  is  no 
evidence  of  power,  except  from  its  results.  And 
where  are  the  results?  Who  has  ever  realized 
these  wishes  and  aspirations,  in  his  heart  and  con- 
duct ?  The  truth  is,  that  every  unattciined  aspira- 
tion that  ever  swelled  the  human  soul  is  proof  pos- 
itive, and  loud,  that  the  human  soul  is  in  l)ondage. 
These  ineffectual  stirrings  and  impulses,  which 
disappear  like  the  morning  cloud  and  the  early 
dew,  are  most  affecting  evidences  that  "  whosoever 
committetli  sin  is  the  slave  of  sin."  They  prove 
that  apostate  man  has  sunk,  in  one  respect,  to  a 
lower  level  than  that  of  the  irrational  creation. 
For,  high  ideas  and  truths  cannot  raise  him.  Lofty 
impulses  result  in  no  alteration,  or  elevation.  Even 
Divine  influences  leave  him  just  where  they  find 
him,  unless  they  are  exerted  in  their  highest  grade 
of  irresistible  grace.     A  brute  surrenders  himself 


220  SllSr    IS    SPIRITUAL    SLAVERY. 

to  Lis  appetites  and  propensities,  and  lives  the  low 
life  of  nature,  without  being  capable  of  aspirations 
for  anything  purer  and  nobler.  But  man  does  this 
very  thing, — nay,  immerses  himself  in  flesh,  and 
sense,  and  self,  with  an  entireness  and  intensity  of 
whieli  the  brute  is  incapable, — in  the  face  of 
impulses  and  stirrings  of  mind  that  point  him  to 
the  pure  throne  of  God,  and  nrge  him  to  soar  up 
to  it !  The  brute  is  a  creature  of  nature,  because 
he  knows  no  l)etter,  and  can  desire  nothing  better ; 
but  man  is  "as  the  beasts  that  perish,"  in  spite  of 
a  better  knowledge  and  a  loftier  aspiration  ! 

If  then,  you  would  know  that  "  whosoever  com- 
mitteth  sin  is  the  slave  of  sin,"  contemplate  sin  in 
reference  to  the  aspirations  of  an  apostate  spirit 
originally  made  in  the  image  of  God,  and  which, 
because  it  is  not  eternally  reprobated,  is  not  entirely 
cut  off  from  the  common  influences  of  the  Spirit 
of  God.  Never  will  you  feel  the  bondage  of  your 
will  more  profoundly,  than  when  under  these  influ- 
ences, and  in  your  moments  of  seriousness  and 
anxiety  respecting  your  soul's  salvation,  you  aspire 
and  endeavor  to  overcome  inward  sin,  and  find  that 
unless  God  grant  you  His  special  and  renovating 
grace,  your  heart  will  be  sinful  through  all  eternity, 
in  spite  of  the  best  impulses  of  your  best  hours. 
These  upward  impulses  and  aspirations  cannot 
accompany  the  soul  into  the  state  of  final  hopeless- 
ness and  despair, — though  Milton  represents  Satan 
as    sometimes   looking    back    with  a  sigh,  and   a 


SIN    IS    SPIRITUAL   SLAVERY.  221 

mournful  memor}^,  upon  what  he  had  once  been/ — • 
yet  if  they  should  go  with  us  there,  they  would 
make  the  ardor  of  the  fire  more  fierce,  and  the 
gnaw  of  the  worm  more  fell.  For  they  would  help 
to  reveal  the  strength  of  our  sin,  and  the  intensity 
of  our  rebellion. 

III.  Sin  is  spiritual  slavery,  if  viewed  in  refer- 
ence to  the  fea)'S  of  the  human  soul. 

The  sinful  spirit  of  man  fears  the  deatli  of  the 
body,  and  the  Scriptures  assert  that  by  reason  of 
this  particular  fear  we  are  all  our  lifetime  in  bond- 
ao^e.  Thou2:h  we  know  that  the  bodily  dissolu- 
tion  can  havl*  no  effect  upon  the  imperishable  es- 
sence of  an  immortal  being,  yet  we  shrink  back 
from  it,  as  if  the  sentence,  "  Dust  thou  art,  and  unto 
dust  thou  shalt  return,"  had  been  spoken  of  the 
spirit, — as  if  the  worm  were  to  "  feed  sweetly  " 
upon  the  soul,  and  it  were  to  be  buried  up  in  the 
dark  house  of  the  grave.  Even  the  boldest  of  i  5  is 
disturbed  at  the  thought  of  bodily  death,  an("'  we 
are  always  startled  when  the  summons  sudd  .'.nly 
comes  :  "  Set  thy  house  in  order,  for  thou  must 
die." 

Again,  the  spirit  of  man  fears  that  "  fearful  some- 
thing after  death,"  that  eternal  judgment  which 
must  be  passed  upon  all.  We  tremble  at  the  pro^^- 
pect  of  giving  an  account  of  our  own  actions.  We 
are  afraid  to  reap  the  harvest,  the  seed  of  which  we 
have  sown  witli  our  own  liands.     The  thoughl   of 

'  MiLTOxV  :  Taradiso  Lost,  IV.  23-25  ;  35-6L 


222  SIN   IS    SPIEITFAL    SLAVEKY. 

going  to  a  jast  judgment,  and  of  receiving  from  the 
Judge  of  all  the  earth,  who  cannot  possibly  do  in- 
justice to  any  of  His  creatures,  only  that  which  is 
our  desert,  shocks  us  to  the  centre  of  our  being  ! 
Man  universally  is  afraid  to  be  judged  with  a  right- 
eous judgment!  Man  universally  is  terrified  by 
the  equitable  bar  of  God  ! 

Again,  the  apostate  spirit  of  man  has  an  awful 
dread  of  eternity.  Though  this  invisible  realm  is 
the  proper  home  of  the  human  soul,  and  it  was 
made  to  dwell  there  forever,  after  the  threescore 
and  ten  years  of  its  residence  in  the  body  are  over, 
yet  it  shrinks  back  from  an  entrance  into  this  un- 
tried world,  and  clings  with  the  desperate  force  of 
a  drownino;  man  to  this  "  bank  and  shoal  of  time." 
There  are  moments  in  the  life  of  a  guilty  man  when 
the  very  idea  of  eternal  existence  exerts  a  preter- 
natural power,  and  fills  him  with  a  dread  that  para- 
lyzes him.  Nev^er  is  the  human  being  stirred  to 
so  great  depths,  and  roused  to  such  intensity  of  ac- 
tion, as  when  it  feels  what  the  Scripture  calls  "  the 
power  of  an  endless  life."  All  men  are  urged  by 
some  ruling  passion  which  is  strong.  The  love  of 
wealth,  or  of  pleasure,  or  of  fame,  drives  the  mind 
onward  with  great  force,  and  excites  it  to  mighty 
exertions  to  compass  its  end.  But  never  is  a  man 
pervaded  l)y  such  an  irresistible  and  overwhelming 
influence  as  that  which  descends  upon  him  in  some 
season  of  religious  gloom, — some  hour  of  sickness, 
or  danger,  or  death, — when  the  great  eternity,  with 


«;tn  is  spiritual  slavery.  228 

all  its  awful  realities,  and  all  its  unknown  terror, 
opens  upon  his  quailing  gaze.  There  are  times  in 
man's  life,  when  he  is  the  sulgect  of  movements 
within  that  impel  him  to  deeds  that  seem  almost 
superhuman ;  but  that  internal  ferment  and  con- 
vulsion which  is  produced  when  all  eternity  pours 
itself  through  his  being  turns  his  soul  up  from  the 
centre.  Man  will  labor  convulsively,  night  and  day, 
for  money  ;  he  will  dry  up  the  bloom  and  freshness 
of  health,  for  earthly  power  and  fame ;  he  will  act- 
ually wear  his  body  out  for  sensual  pleasure.  But 
what  is  the  intensity  and  paroxysm  of  this  activity 
of  mind  and  body,  if  compared  with  those  inward 
sti'uo-onles  and  tliroes  when  the  overtaken  and  start- 
led  sinner  sees  the  eternal  world  looming  into  view, 
and  with  strong  crying  and  tears  prays  for  only  a 
little  respite,  and  only  a  little  preparaticm !  "Mil- 
lions for  an  inch  of  time," — said  the  dying  English  ^ 
Queen.  "  O  Eternity  !  Eternity  !  how  shall  I  grap- 
ple with  the  misery  that  I  must  meet  with  in  eter- 
nity^''— says  the  man  in  the  iron  cage  of  Despair. 
This  finite  world  has  indeed  great  power  to  stir  man, 
but  the  other  world  has  an  infinitely  greater  power. 
The  clouds  wliich  float  in  the  lower  regions  of  the 
sky,  and  the  winds  that  sweep  them  along,  produce 
great  ruin  and  destruction  upon  the  earth,  but  it  is 
only  when  the  "  windows  of  heaven  are  opened  " 
that  "the  fountains  of  the  great  deep  are  broken 
up,"  and  "  all  in  ^vhose  nostrils  is  the  breath  of  life 
die,"    and   "every   living   substance   is   destroyed 


224  SIN    IS    SPIRITUAL    SLAVERY. 

which  is  upon  the  face  of  the  ground."  When  fear 
arises  in  the  soul  of  man,  in  view  of  an  eternal  ex- 
istence for  which  he  is  utterly  unprepared,  it  is 
overwhelming.  It  partakes  of  the  immensity  of 
eternity,  and  holds  the  man  with  an  omnipotent 
grasp. 

If,  now,  we  view  sin  in  relation  to  these  great 
fears  of  death,  judgment,  and  eternity,  we  see  that  it 
is  spiritual  slavery,  or  the  bondage  of  the  will.  We 
discover  that  our  terror  is  no  more  able  to  deliver 
us  f]-om  the  "  bondage  of  corruption,"  than  our  as- 
piration is.  We  found  that  in  spite  of  the  seiious 
stirrings  and  impulses  which  sometimes  rise  within 
us,  we  still  continue  immersed  in  sense  and  sin  ; 
and  we  shall  also  find  that  in  spite  of  the  most  sol- 
emn and  awful  fears  of  which  a  finite  being  is  capa- 
ble, we  remain  bondmen  to  ourselves,  and  our  sin 
The  dread  that  goes  down  into  hell  can  no  more 
ransom  us,  than  can  the  aspiration  that  goes  up  into 
heaven.  Our  fear  of  eternal  woe  can  no  more  change 
the  heart,  than  our  wish  for  eternal  happiness  can. 
We  have,  at  some  periods,  faintly  wished  that  lusts 
and  passions  had  no  power  over  us ;  and  perhaps 
we  have  been  the  subject  of  still  higher  aspirings. 
But  we  are  the  same  being's,  still.  We  are  the 
same  self-willed  and  self-enslaved  sinners,  yet. 
We  have  all  our  lifetime  feared  death,  judgment, 
and  eternity,  and  under  the  influence  of  this  fear 
we  have  sometimes  resolved  and  promised  to  be- 
come Christians.    But  we  are  the  very  same  beings, 


'    SES^    IS    SPiniTUAL    SLAVERY.  225 

still ;  we  are  the  same  self-willed  and  self-enslaved 
siunei'S  yet. 

Ob,  never  is  tlie  human  spirit  more  deeply  con- 
scious of  its  bondage  to  its  darling  iniquity,  than 
when  these  paralyzing  fears  shut  down  upon  it,  like 
night,  with  "a  horror  of  great  darkness."  When 
under  their  influence,  the  man  feels  most  thoroughly 
and  wretchedly  that  his  sin  is  his  ruin,  and  yet  his 
sinful  determination  continues  on,  because  "  whoso- 
ever committeth  sin  is  the  dave  of  sin."  Has  it 
never  happened  that,  in  "  the  visions  of  the  night 
when  deep  sleep  falleth  upon  men,"  a  spirit  passed 
before  your  face,  like  that  which  stood  still  before 
the  Temanite;  and  there  was  silence,  and  a  voice 
saying,  "  Man  !  Man  !  thou  must  die,  thou  must  be 
judged,  thou  must  inhabit  eternity?"  And  when 
the  spirit  liad  departed,  and  while  the  tones  of  its 
solemn  and  startling  cry  were  still  rolling  through 
your  soul,  did  not  a  temptation  to  sin  solicit  you, 
and  did  you  not  drink  in  its  iniquity  like  water  ^ 
Have  you  not  found  out,  by  mournful  experience, 
that  the  most  anxious  forebodino-s  of  the  human 
S])irit,  the  most  alarming  fears  of  the  human  soul, 
and  the  most  solemn  warnins^s  that  come  forth  from 
eternity,  have  no  prevailing  power  over  j^our  sinful 
nature,  but  that  immediately  after  experiencing 
tliem,  and  while  your  whole  being  is  still  quivering 
under  their  agonizing  touch,  you  fall,  you  rush,  into 
sin  ?  Have  you  not  discovered  that  even  that  most 
di'eadfid  of  all  fears, — the  fear  of  the  holy  wrath  of 


226  SIN   IS    SPIRITUAL    SLAVERY. 

almighty  God, — is  not  strong  enough  to  save  you 
from  yourself  ?  Do  you  know  that  your  love  of  sin 
has  the  power  to  stifle  and  overcome  the  mightiest 
of  your  fears,  when  you  are  strongly  tempted  to  self- 
indulgence  ?  Have  you  no  evidence,  in  your  own 
experience,  of  the  truth  of  the  poet's  words : 

"  The  Sensual  and  the  Dark  rebel  in  vain, 
Slaves  by  their  own  compulsion." 

If,  then,  you  would  know  that  "  whosoever  com- 
mitteth  sin  is  the  slave  of  sin,"  contemplate  sin  in 
relation  to  the  fears  which  of  necessity  rest  upon  a 
spirit  capable,  as  yours  is,  of  knowing  that  it  must 
leave  the  body,  that  it  must  receive  a  final  sentence 
at  the  bar  of  judgment,  and  that  eternity  is  its  last 
and  fixed  dwelling-place.  If  you  would  know 
with  sadness  and  with  profit,  that  sin  is  the  enslave- 
ment of  the  will  thatorig^inates  it,  consider  that  all 
the  distressing  fears  that  have  ever  been  in  your 
soul,  from  the  first,  have  not  been  able  to  set  you 
free  in  the  least  from  innate  depravity:  but,  that 
in  spite  of  them  all  your  will  has  been  steadily 
surrendering  itself,  more  and  m^re,  to  the  evil  prin- 
ciple of  self-love  and  enmity  to  God.  Call  to  mind 
the  great  fight  of  anguish  and  terror  which  you 
have  sometimes  waged  with  sin,  and  see  how  sin  has 
always  been  victorious.  Remember  that  you  have 
often  dreaded  death, — but  you  are  unjust  still. 
Remember  that  you  have  often  trembled  at  the 
thought  of  eternal  judgment, — but  you   are  unre- 


SIN    IS    SPIRIT Ux^L    SLAVERY.  227 

generate  still.  Remember  that  you  have  often 
started  back,  when  the  holy  and  retributive  eter- 
nity dawned  like  the  day  of  doom  upon  you, — but 
you  are  impenitent  still.  If  you  view  your  own  . 
personal  sin  in  reference  toyonrown  personal  fears, 
are  you  not  a  slave  to  it  ?  Will  or  can  your  fears, 
mighty  as  they  sometimes  are,  deliver  you  from 
the  bondage  of  corruption,  and  lift  you  above  that 
which  you  love  with  all  your  heart,  and  strength, 
and  might  ? 

It  is  perfectly  plain,  then,  that  "  whosoever  com- 
mitteth  sin  is  the  slave  of  sin,"  whether  we  have 
regard  to  the  feeling  of  obligation  to  be  perfectly 
holy  which  is  in  the  human  conscience ;  or  to  the 
ineffectual  aspirations  which  sometimes  arise  in  the 
human  spii-it ;  or  to  the  dreadful  fears  which  often  / 
fall  upon  it.  Sin  must  have  brought  the  human  ' 
will  into  a  real  and  absolute  bondage,  if  the  deep 
and  solemn  sense  of  indebtedness  to  moral  law;  if 
the  "  thoughts  that  wander  through  eternity;"  if 
the  aspirations  that  soar  to  the  heaven  of  heavens, 
and  the  fears  that  descend  to  the  very  bottom  of 
hell, — if  all  these  combined  forces  and  influences 
cannot  free  it  from  its  powei*. 

It  was  remarked  in  the  beginning  of  this  dis- 
course, that  the  bon  luge  of  siu  is  the  result  of  the 
reflex  action  of  the  human  will  upon  itself.  It  is 
not  a  slavery  impo-;ed  from  without,  but  from  witliiii. 
The  l)()ndage  of  sin  is  only  a  2)rii'ticuJar  aspect  of 
sin  itself     Tlie  element  of  servitude,  like  the  ele- 


228  SIN   IS    SPIRITUAL    SLAVERY. 

ment  of  blindness,  or  hardness,  or  rebelliousness,  is 
part  and  particle  of  that  moral  evil  which  deserves 
the  wrath  and  curse  of  God.  It,  therefore,  no  more 
excuses  or  palliates,  than  does  any  other  self-origi- 
nated quality  in  sin.  Spiritual  bondage,  like  spir- 
itual enmity  to  God,  or  spiritual  ignorance  of  Him, 
or  spiritual  apathy  towai'ds  Him,  is  guilt  and  crime. 

And  in  closing,  we  desire  to  repeat  and  empha- 
size this  truth.  Whoever  will  enter  upon  that  pro- 
cess of  self-wrestlino;  and  selfconflict  which  has 
been  described,  will  come  to  a  profound  sense  of 
the  truth  which  our  Lord  taught  in  the  words  of 
the  text.  All  such  will  find  and  feel  that  they  are 
in  slavery,  and  that  their  slavery  is  their  condem- 
nation. For  the  anxious,  weary,  and  heavy-laden 
sinner,  the  problem  is  not  mysterious,  because  it 
finds  its  solution  in  the  depths  of  his  own  self-con- 
soiousjiess.  He  needs  no  one  to  clear  it  up  for  him, 
and  he  has  neither  doubts  nor  cavils  resj)ecting  it. 

But,  an  objection  always  assails  that  mind  which 
has  not  the  key  of  an  inward  moral  sti'uggle  to  un- 
lock the  j)roblem  for  it.  When  Christ  asserts  that 
*'  whosoever  committeth  sin  is  the  slave  of  sin,"  the 
easy  and  indifferent  mind  is  swift  to  draw  the  in- 
ference that  this  bondage  is  its  misfortune,  and  that 
the  poor  slave  does  not  deserve  to  be  punished,  but 
to  be  set  free.  He  says  as  St.  Paul  did  in  another 
connection  :  "  Nay  verily,  but  let  them  come  them- 
selves, and  fetch  us  out."  But  this  slavery  is  a  self- 
enslavement.     The  feet  of  this  man  have  not  been 


SIN    IS    SPIRITUAL    SLAVERY.  229 

thrust  into  the  stocks  1)}^  another.  This  logician 
must  refer  everything  to  its  own  proper  author,  and 
its  own  proper  cause.  Let  this  spiritual  bond- 
age, therefore,  he  charged  upon  the  self  that  origi- 
nated it.  Let  it  be  referred  to  that  self-will  in 
which  it  is  wrapped  up,  and  of  which  it  is  a  constit- 
uent element.  It  is  a  universally  received  maxim, 
that  the  agent  is  responsible  for  the  consequences  of 
a  voluntary  act,  as  ^vell  as  for  the  act  itself.  If 
tlierefore,  the  human  will  has  inflicted  a  suicidal 
blow  upon  itself,  and  one  of  the  consequences  of  its 
own  determination  is  a  total  enslavement  of  itself 
to  its  own  determination,  then  this  enslaving  result 
of  the  act,  as  well  the  act  itself,  must  all  go  in  to 
constitute  and  swell  the  sum-total  of  human  2ruilt. 
The  miserable  drunkard,  therefore,  cannot  be  ab- 
solv^ed  from  the  drunkard's  condemnation,  upon  the 
plea  that  by  a  long  series  of  voluntary  acts  he  has, 
in  the  end,  so  enslaved  himself  that  no  power  but 
God's  grace  can  save  him.  The  marble-heai'ted  fiend 
in  hell,  the  absolutely  lost  spii'it  in  despair,  cannot 
relieve  his  torturing  sense  of  guilt,  by  the  reflection 
that  he  has  at  lenij-th  so  hardened  liis  own  heart 
that  he  cannot  repent.  The  unforced  will  of  a  moral 
being  must  be  held  responsible  for  both  its  direct, 
and  its  refex  action  ;  for  both  its  sin,  and  its  homl- 
age  in  sin. 

Tlie  denial  of  guilt,  tlien,  is  not  the  way  out.    He 
who   takes   this  voad  "kicks  airainst    the  iroads." 

And  he  will  find  their  stabs  thickeninor,  the  farther 
11 


230  SIN"   IS    SPIRITUAL    SLAVEEY. 

he  travels,  and  the  nearer  he  draws  to  the  face  and 
eyes  of  God.  But  there  is  a  way  out.  It  is  the  way 
of  self-knowledge  and  confession.  This  is  the  point 
npon  which  all  the  antecedents  of  salvation  hinge. 
He  who  has  come  to  know,  with  a  clear  discrimina- 
tion, that  he  is  in  a  guilty  bondage  to  his  own  incli- 
nation and  lust,  has  taken  the  very  first  step  towards 
freedom.  For,  the  Redeemer,  the  Almighty  Deliv- 
erer, is  near  the  captive,  so  soon  as  the  captive  feels 
his  bondage  and  confesses  it.  The  mighty  God 
w^alkiug  upon  the  waves  of  this  sinful,  troubled  life, 
stretches  out  His  arm,  the  very  instant  any  sinking 
soul  cries,  "Lord  save  me."  And  unless  that  appeal 
and  confession  of  helplessness  is  made,  He,  the  Mer- 
ciful and  the  Compassionate,  will  let  the  soul  go 
down  before  His  own  eyes  to  the  unfathomed 
abyss.  If  the  sinking  Peter  had  not  uttered  that 
cry,  the  mighty  hand  of  Christ  would  not  have  been 
stretched  forth.  All  the  difficulties  disappear,  so 
soon  as  a  man  understands  the  truth  of  the  Divine 
affirmation :  "  O  Israel  thou  hast  destroyed  thyself," 
— it  is  a  real  destruction,  and  it  is  thy  own  work, — 
*'  but  in  ME  is  thy  help." 


THE   ORIGINAL  AND   THE   ACTUAL  RELATION   OF   UAH 

TO   LAW. 


Romans  vii.  10. — "The    commandment  which    waa    ordained   to    life,    I 
found  to  be  unto  death." 


The  reader  of  Si.  Paul's  Epistles  is  struck  witli 
the  seemingly  disparaging  manner  in  which  he 
speaks  of  the  moral  law.  In  one  place,  he  tells  his 
reader  that  "  the  law  entered  that  the  offence  might 
ahound;"  in  another,  that  "the  law  worketh 
wrath  ; ''  in  another,  that  "  sin  shall  not  have  do- 
minion "  over  the  believer  because  he  is  "  not  under 
the  law ; "  in  another,  that  Christians  "  are  become 
dead  to  the  law ;"  in  another,  that  "  they  are  delivered 
from  the  law  ;  "  and  in  another,  that  "  the  strength 
of  sin  is  the  law."  This  phraseology  sounds 
strangely,  respect! :ig  that  great  commandment 
upon  which  the  whole  moral  government  of  God  is 
founded.  We  are  in  the  habit  of  supposing  that 
nothing  that  springs  from  the  Divine  law,  or  is  in 
any  way  connected  with  it,  can  be  evil  or  the  occa- 
sion of  evil.  If  the  law  of  holiness  is  the  strength 
of  siu ;  if  it  worketh  wrath ;  if  good  men  are  to 


232  THE   OEIGINAL    AKD   THE    ACTUAL 

be  delivered  from  it ;  what  then  shall  be  said  of 
the  law  of  sin  ?  Why  is  it,  that  St.  Paul  in  a  cer- 
tain class  of  his  representations  appears  to  be  inim- 
ical to  the  ten  commandments,  and  to  warn  Chris- 
tians against  them  ?  "  Is  the  law  sin  ?  "  is  a  ques- 
tion that  very  naturally  arises,  while  reading  some 
of  his  statements;  and  it  is  a  question  which  he 
himself  asks,  because  he  is  aware  that  it  will  be 
likely  to  start  in  the  mind  of  some  of  his  readers. 
And  it  is  a  question  to  which  he  replies :  "  God  for- 
bid.    Nay  I  had  not  known  sin,  but  by  the  law.'' 

The  difficulty  is  only  seeming,  and  not  real. 
These  apparently  disparaging  representations  of 
the  moral  law  are  perfectly  reconcilable  with  that 
profound  reverence  for  its  authority  whir*h  St.  Paul 
felt  and  exhibited,  and  with  that  solemn  and  cogent 
preaching  of  the  law  for  which  he  was  so  distin- 
guished. The  text  explains  and  resolves  the  diffi- 
culty. ''  The  commandment  which  was  ordained 
to  life,  I  found  to  be  unto  death."  The  moral  law, 
in  its  own  nature^  and  by  the  Divine  ordination^  is 
suited  to  produce  holiness  and  happiness  in  the  soul 
of  any  and  every  man.  It  was  ordained  to  life. 
So  :^ir  as  the  purpose  of  God,  and  the  original  na- 
ture and  character  of  man,  ai'e  concerned,  the  ten 
commandments  are  perfectly  adapted  to  fill  the 
soul  with  peace  and  purity.  In  the  unfallen  crea- 
ture, they  work  no  wrath,  neither  are  they  the 
strength  of  sin.  If  everything  in  man  had  re- 
mained as  it  was  created,  there  would  have  been 


RELATION    OF    MAN   TO    LAW.  233 

no  need  of  urchins:  liim  to  "become  dead  to  the 
law,"  to  be  "  delivered  from  the  law,"  and  not  be 
"  under  the  law."  Had  man  kept  his  original  right- 
eousness, it  could  never  be  said  of  him  that  "  the 
strength  of  sin  is  the  law."  On  the  contrary, 
there  was  such  a  mutual  agreement  between  the 
unfallen  nature  of  man  and  the  holy  law  of  God, 
that  the  latter  was  the  very  joy  and  strength  of 
the  former.  The  commandment  was  ordained  to 
life,  and  it  was  the  life  and  peace  of  holy  Adam. 

The  original  relation  between  man's  nature  and 
the  moral  law  was  precisely  like  that  between 
material  nature  and  the  material  laws.  There  has 
been  no  apostasy  in  the  system  of  matter,  and  all 
things  remain  there  as  they  were  in  the  beginning 
of  creation.  The  law  of  gravitation,  tliis  very 
instant,  rules  as  peacefully  and  supremely  in  every 
atom  of  matter,  as  it  did  on  the  morning  of  crea- 
tion. Should  material  nature  be  "  delivered  "  from 
the  law  of  gravitation,  chaos  would  come  again. 
No  portion  of  tliis  fair  and  l)eautiful  natural  world 
needs  to  become  "dead"  to  the  laws  of  nature. 
Such  phraseology  as  this  is  inapplicable  to  the  re- 
lation that  exists  between  the  world  of  matter,  and 
the  sy stein  of  material  laws,  because,  in  this  mate- 
rial sphere,  there  has  been  no  revolution,  no  reT)el- 
lion,  no  great  catastrophe  analogous  to  the  fall  of 
Ailam.  The  law  here  was  ordained  to  life,  and  the 
ordinance  still  stands.  And  it  shall  stand  until, 
by  the  will  of   the  Creator,  these    elements  shall 


234  THE    ORIGINAL    AND    THE   ACTUAL 

melt  with  fervent  heat,  and  these  heavens  shall  pass 
away  with  a  great  noise ;  until  a  new  system  of 
nature,  and  a  new  legislation  for  it,  are  introduced. 

But  the  case  is  different  with  man.  He  is  not 
standing  where  he  was,  when  created.  He  is  out 
of  his  original  relations  to  the  law  and  government 
of  Grod,  and  therefoi'e  that  which  w^as  ordained  to 
Mm  for  life,  he  now  finds  to  be  unto  deatlj.  The 
food  which  in  its  own  nature  is  suited  to  minister 
to  the  health  and  strength  of  the  well  man,  becomes 
poison  and  death  itself  to  the  sick  man. 

With  this  brief  notice  of  the  fact,  that  the  law 
of  God  was  ordained  to  life,  and  that  therefore  this 
disparaging  phraseology  of  St.  Paul  does  not  refer 
to  the  intrinsic  nature  of  law,  which  he  expressly 
informs  us  "is  holy  just  and  good,"  nor  to  the  origi- 
nal relation  which  man  sustained  to  it  before  he 
became  a  sinner,  let  us  now  proceed  to  consider  some 
particulars  in  which  the  commandment  is  found  to 
be  unto  death,  to  every  sinful  man. 

The  law  of  God  shows  itself  in  the  human  soul, 
in  the  form  of  a  sense  of  duty.  Every  man,  as  he 
walks  these  streets,  and  engages  in  the  business  or 
pleasures  of  life,  hears  occasionally  the  words: 
"Thou  shalt;  thou  shalt  not."  Every  man,  as  he 
passes  along  in  this  earthly  pilgrimage,  finds  him- 
self saying  to  himself:  "I  ought,  I  ought  not." 
This  is  the  voice  of  law  soundino:  in  the  conscience : 
and  every  man  may  know,  whenever  he  hears  these 
words,  that  he   is  listening  to  the  same  authority 


RELATION    OF    MAN    TO    LAW.  235 

that  cut  the  ten  commandments  into  the  stones  of 
Sinai,  and  sounded  that  awful  trumpet,  and  will 
one  day  come  in  power  and  great  glory  to  judge 
the  quick  and  dead.  Law,  we  say,  expresses  itself 
for  man,  while  here  upon  eai'th,  through  the  sense 
of  duty.  "  A  sense  of  duty  pursues  us  ever,"  said 
Webster,  in  that  impressive  allusion  to  the  work- 
ings of  conscience,  in  the  trial  of  the  Salem  mur- 
derers. This  is  the  accusins^  and  condemnins;  sen- 
sation,  in  and  by  which  the  written  statute  of  God 
becomes  a  living  energy,  and  a  startling  voice  in 
the  soul.  Cut  into  the  rock  of  Sinai,  it  is  a  dead 
letter  ;  written  and  printed  in  our  Bibles,  it  is  still 
a  dead  letter ;  but  wrought  in  this  manner  into  the 
fabric  of  our  own  constitution,  waylaying  us  in  our 
hours  of  weakness,  and  irresolution,  and  secrecy, 
and  speaking  to  our  inward  being  in  tones  that  are 
as  startling  as  any  that  could  be  addressed  to  the 
physical  ear, — undergoing  this  transmutation,  and 
becoming  a  continual  consciousness  of  duty  and  obli- 
gation, the  law  of  God  is  more  than  a  letter.  It  is 
a  possessing  spirit,  and  according  as  we  obey  or 
disobey,  it  is  a  guardian  angel,  or  a  tormenting 
fiend.  We  have  disobeyed,  and  therefore  the 
sense  of  duty  is  a  tormenting  sensation ;  the  com- 
mandment which  was  ordained  to  life,  is  found  to 
be  unto  death. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  to  go  into  the  analysis,  the 
sense  of  duty  is  a  sorrow  and  a  jiain  to  sinful  man, 
because  it  ^places  liini  under  a  continual  restraint. 


236  THE    OEIGINAL    AND    THE    ACTUAL 

No  creature  can  be  happy,  so  long  as  he  feels 
himself  under  limitations.  To  be  checked,  reined 
in,  and  thwarted  in  any  way,  renders  a  man  uneasy 
and  discontented.  The  universal  and  instinctive 
desire  for  freedom, — freedom  from  restraint, — is  a 
proof  of  this.  Every  creature  wishes  to  follow  out 
his  inclination,  and  in  proportion  as  he  is  hindered 
in  so  doing,  and  is  compelled  to  work  counter  to  it, 
he  is  restless  and  dissatisfied. 

Now  the  sense  of  duty  exerts  just  this  influence, 
upon  sinful  man.  It  opposes  his  wishes;  it  thwarts 
his  inclination ;  it  imposes  a  restraint  upon  his 
spontaneous  desires  and  appetites.  It  continually 
hedges  up  his  way,  and  seeks  to  stop  him  in  the 
path  of  his  choice  and  his  pleasure.  If  his  inclina- 
tion were  only  in  harmony  with  his  duty;  if  his 
desires  and  aftections  were  one  with  the  law  of  God  ; 
there  would  be  no  restraint  from  the  law.  In  this 
case,  the  sense  of  duty  would  be  a  joy  and  not  a 
sorrow,  because,  in  doing  his  duty,  he  would  be 
doing  what  he  liked.  There  are  only  two  ways, 
whereby  contentment  can  be  introduced  into  the 
human  soul.  If  the  Divine  law  could  be  altered  so 
that  it  should  agree  with  man's  sinful  inclination, 
he  could  be  happy  in  sin.  The  commandment 
hav^ing  become  like  his  own  heart,  there  would,  of 
course,  be  no  conflict  between  the  two,  and  he 
might  sin  on  forever  and  lap  himself  in  Elysium. 
And  undoubtedly  there  are  thousands  of  luxurious 
and  guilty  men,  who,  if  they  could,  like  the  Eastern 


RELATION    OF    MAIST    TO    LAAV.  237 

Semiramis,  would  make  lust  and  law  alike  in  tlieir 
decree ;  ^  would  transmute  the  law  of  holiness 
into  a  law  of  sin;  would  put  evdl  for  good,  and 
good  for  evil,  bitter  for  sweet  and  sweet  for  bit- 
ter; in  order  to  be  eternally  happy  in  the  sin 
that  they  love.  They  would  bring  duty  and  in- 
clination into  harmony,  by  a  method  that  would 
annihilate  duty,  would  annihilate  the  eternal  dis- 
tinction between  right  and  wrong,  would  annihilate 
God  himself.  But  this  method,  of  course,  is  impos- 
sible. There  can  be  no  transmutation  of  law, 
though  there  can  be  of  a  creature's  character  and  in- 
clination. Heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away,  but 
the  commandment  of  God  can  never  pass  away. 
Tiie  only  other  mode,  therefore,  by  which  duty  and 
inclination  can  be  brought  into  agreement,  and  the 
continual  sense  of  restraint  which  renders  man  so 
wretched  be  removed,  is  to  change  the  inclination. 
The  instant  the  desires  and  affections  of  our  hearts 
are  transformed,  so  that  they  accord  with  the 
Divine  law,  the  conflict  between  our  will  and  our 
conscience  is  at  an  end.  When  I  come  to  love  the 
law  of  holiness  and  delight  in  it,  to  obey  it  is  sim- 
ply to  follow  out  my  inclination.  And  this,  we 
Lave  seen,  is  to  be  happy. 

But  such  is  not  the  state  of  thino;^,  in  the  unre- 


'  "  Slic  in  vice 
Of  luxury  was  so  shameless,  tliat  slie  made 
Liking  to  be  l.iwt'i:!  l»y  iiromuliivi]  docree. 
To  clear  the  lilame  she  liad  iuM-selt  incurr'd." 

Dantk  :   iiironio,  v.  50. 
11* 


238  THE    ORIGINAL    AND    THE    ACTUAL 

newed  soul.  Duty  and  inclination  are  in  conflict. 
Man's  desires  appetites  and  tendencies  are  in  one  di- 
rection, and  his  conscience  is  in  the  other.  The  sense 
of  duty  holds  a  whip  over  him.  He  yields  to  his 
sinful  inclination,  finds  a  momentary  pleasure  in  so 
doing,  and  then  feels  the  stings  of  the  scoi'piou-lash. 
We  see  this  operation  in  a  very  plain  and  striking 
manner,  if  we  select  an  instance  whei-e  the  appetite 
is  very  strong,  and  the  voice  of  conscience  is  very 
loud.  Take,  for  example,  that  particular  sin  which 
most  easily  besets  an  individual.  Every  man  has 
such  a  sin,  and  knows  what  it  is.  Let  him  call  to 
Uiind  the  innumerable  instances  in  which  that  par- 
ticular temptation  has  assailed  him,  and  he  will  be 
startled  to  discover  how  many  thousands  of  times 
the  sense  of  duty  has  put  a  restraint  upon  him. 
Tliough  not  in  every  single  instance,  yet  in  hun- 
dreds  and  hundreds  of  cases,  the  law  of  God  has 
uttered  the,  "  Thou  shalt  not,"  and  endeavored  to 
prevent  the  consummation  of  that  sin.  And  what  a 
wearisome  experience  is  this.  A  continual  forth- 
putting  of  an  unlawful  desire,  and  an  almost  inces 
sant  check  upon  it,  from  a  law  which  is  hated  but 
which  is  feared.  For  such  is  the  attitude  of  the 
natural  heart  toward  the  commandment.  "The 
carnal  mind  is  enmity  against  the  law  of  Grod.'" 
The  two  are  contrary  to  one  another ;  so  that  when 
the  heart  goes  out  in  its  inclination,  it  is  immedi- 
ately hindered  and  opposed  by  the  law.  Sometimes 
the  collision  between  them  is  terrible,  and  the  soul 


RELATION    OF   MAN   TO    LAW.  239 

becomes  an  arena  of  tumultuous  passions.  The 
heart  and  will  are  intensely  determined  to  do  wrong, 
vvhile  the  conscience  is  unyielding  and  uncompro- 
mising, and  utters  its  denunciations,  and  thunders 
its  warnings.  And  what  a  dreadful  destiny  awaits 
that  soul,  in  whom  this  conflict  and  collision  be- 
tween the  dictates  of  conscience,  and  the  desires  of 
the  heart,  is  to  be  eternal !  for  whom,  through  all 
eternity,  the  holy  law  of  God,  which  was  ordained 
to  life  peace  and  joy,  shall  be  found  to  be  unto  death 
and  woe  immeasui'able  ! 

II.  In  the  second  place,  the  sense  of  duty  is  a 
pain  and  sorrow  to  a  sinful  man,  because  it  de- 
mands a  perpetual  effort  from  him. 

No  creature  likes  to  tug,  and  to  lift.  Service 
must  be  easy,  in  order  to  be  happy.  If  you  lay 
upon  the  shoulders  of  a  laborer  a  burden  that 
sti'ains  his  muscles  almost  to  the  point  of  rupture, 
you  put  him  in  physical  pain.  His  physical  struc- 
ture was  not  intended  to  be  subjected  to  such  a 
stretch.  His  Creator  designed  that  the  burden 
should  be  proportioned  to  the  power,  in  such  a  man- 
ner that  work  should  be  play.  In  the  garden  of 
Eden,  physical  labor  was  physical  pleasure,  because 
the  powers  were  in  healthy  action,  and  the  work 
assigned  to  them  was  not  a  burden.  Before  the 
fall,  man  was  simply  to  dress  and  keep  a  garden  ; 
but  after  the  fall,  he  was  to  dig  up  thorns  and  this- 
tles, and  eat  his  bread  in  the  sweat  of  his  face.  This 
is  a  curse, — the  curse  of  ])eing  compelled  to  toil, 


240  THE  ORIGINAL  Ajstd  the  actual 

and  lift,  and  put  the  muscle  to  such  a  tension  that 
it  aches.  This  is  not  the  original  and  happy  con- 
dition of  the  l)ody,  in  which  man  was  created. 
Look  at  the  toiling  millions  of  the  human  ftmiily, 
who  like  the  poor  ant  "for  one  small  grain,  labor, 
and  tug,  and  strive ; "  see  them  bending  double, 
under  the  heavy  w^eary  load  which  they  must  carry 
until  relieved  by  death ;  and  tell  me  if  this  is  the 
physical  elysium,  the  earthly  paradise,  in  which 
unfallen  man  wns  originally  placed,  and  for  which 
he  was  originally  designed.  No,  tlie  curse  of  labor, 
of  perpetual  effort,  has  fallen  upon  the  body,  as 
the  curse  of  death  has  fallen  upon  the  soul;  and 
the  uneasiness  and  unrest  of  the  groaning  and  strug- 
gling bod}^  is  a  convincing  proof  of  it.  The  whole 
physical  nature  of  man  groaneth  and  travaileth  in 
pain  together  until  now,  waiting  for  the  adoption, 
that  is  the  redemption  of  the  body  from  this  penal 
necessity  of  perpetual  strain  and  effort. 

The  same  fact  meets  us  when  we  pass  from  the 
physical  to  the  moral  nature  of  man,  and  becomes 
much  more  sad  and  impressive.  By  creation,  it  was 
a  pleasure  and  a  pastime  for  man  to  keep  the  law 
of  God,  to  do  spiritual  work.  As  created,  he  was 
not  comj^elled  to  summon  his  energies,  and  strain 
his  w^ill,  and  make  a  convulsive  resolution  to  obey 
the  commands  of  his  Maker,  Obedience  was  joy. 
Holy  Adam  knew  nothing  of  effort  in  the  path  of 
duty.  It  was  a  smooth  and  broad  pathwa}',  fringed 
with  flowers,  and  leading  into  the  meadows  of  as- 


KELATION    OF    JIAN    TO    LAW.  2J1 

pliodel.  It  did  not  become  the  "  straight  and  nar- 
row "  way,  until  sin  had  made  obedience  a  toil,  the 
sense  of  duty  a  restraint,  and  human  life  a  race  and  a 
fight.  By  apostasy,  the  obligation  to  keep  the  Divine 
law  perfectly,  l)ecame  repulsive.  It  was  no  longer 
easy  for  man  to  do  I'ight ;  and  it  has  never  been  easy 
or  spontaneous  to  him  since.  Hence,  the  attempt  to 
follow  the  dictates  of  conscience  always  costs  an  un- 
regenerate  man  an  effort.  He  is  compelled  to  make  a 
resolution;  and  a  resolution  is  the  sign  and  signal  of 
a  difficult  and  unwelcome  service.  Take  your  own 
experience  for  an  illusti-ation.  Did  you  ever,  ex- 
cept as  you  were  sweetly  inclined  and  drawn  by  the 
renewing  grace  of  God,  attempt  to  discharge  a  duty, 
without  discovering  that  you  were  averse  to  it,  and. 
that  you  must  gather  up  your  energies  for  the  work, 
as  the  leaper  strains  upon  the  tendon  of  Achilles  to 
make  the  mortal  leap.  And  if  you  had  not  })ecome 
wear}'',  and  given  over  the  eflbrt;  if  you  had  en- 
tered upon  that  sad  but  salutary  passage  in  the  re- 
ligious experience  which  is  delineated  in  the  seventh 
chapter  of  Komans  ;  if  you  had  continued  to  sti-ug- 
gle  and  strive  to  do  your  duty,  until  you  grew  faint 
and  weak,  and  powerless,  and  cried  out  for  a  higher 
and  mightier  power  to  succor  you  ;■  you  would  have 
known,  as  you  do  not  yet,  what  a  deadly  opposition 
there  is  between  the  carnal  mind  and  the  law  of 
God,  and  what  a  spasmodic  effort  it  costs  an  un- 
renewed man  even  to  attempt  to  discharf  i  the  in- 
numerable oljligations  that  rest  u})on  him.    Mankind 


242  THE    ORIGES^AL    AND   THE    ACTUAL 

would  know  more  of  this  species  of  toil  and  labor, 
and  of  the  cleaving  curse  involved  in  it,  if  they 
were  under  the  same  physical  necessity  in  re- 
gard to  it,  that  they  lie  under  in  respect  to  manual 
labor.  A  man  viust  dig  up  the  thorns  and  thistles, 
he  Qniist  earn  his  bread  in  the  sweat  of  his  face,  or 
he  must  die.  Physical  wants,  hunger  and  thirst, 
set  men  to  work  physically,  and  keep  them  at  it ; 
and  thus  they  well  understand  what  it  is  to  have  a 
weary  body,  acliing  muscles,  and  a  tired  physical 
nature.  But  they  are  not  under  the  same  species 
of  necessity,  in  respect  to  the  wants  and  the 
work  of  the  soul.  A  man  may  neglect  these,  and 
yet  live  a  long  and  luxurious  life  upon  the  earth. 
He  is  not  driven  by  the  very  force  of  circumstances, 
to  labor  with  his  heart  and  will,  as  he  is  to  labor 
with  his  hands.  And  hence  he  knows  little  or 
nothing  of  a  weary  and  heavy-laden  soul ;  nothing 
of  an  achins:  heart  and  a  tired  will.  He  well  knows 
how  much  strain  and  effort  it  costs  to  cut  down  for- 
ests, open  roads,  and  reduce  the  wilderness  to  a  fer- 
tile field  ;  but  he  does  not  know  how  much  toil  and 
effort  are  involved,  in  tlie  attempt  to  convert  the 
human  soul  into  the  garden  of  the  Lord. 

Now  in  this  demand  for  a  jperpetual  effort  which 
is  made  upon  the  natural  man,  by  the  sense  of 
duty,  we  see  that  the  law  whicb  was  ordained  to 
life  is  found  to  be  unto  death.  The  commandment, 
instead  of  being  a  pleasant  friend  and  companion  to 
the  human  soul,  as  it  was  in  tlie  beginning,  has  be 


RELATION    OF   MAN    TO    LAAV.  243 

come  a  strict  rigorous  task-master.  It  lays  out  an 
uncongenial  work  for  sinful  man  to  do,  and  threat- 
ens him  with  punishment  and  woe  if  he  does  not  do 
it.  And  yet  the  law  is  not  a  tyrant.  It  is  holy, 
just,  and  good.  This  work  which  it  lays  out  is  right- 
eous work,  and  ought  to  be  done.  The  wicked 
disinclination  and  aversion  of  the  sinner  have  com- 
pelled the  law  to  assume  this  imwelcomeand  threat- 
enino;  attitude.  That  which  is  ofood  was  not  made 
death  to  man  by  God's  agency,  and  by  a  Divine  ar- 
rangement, l)ut  by  man's  transgi'ession.^  Sin  pro- 
duces this  misery  in  the  human  soul,  through  an  in- 
strument that  is  innocent,  and  in  its  own  nature 
benevolent  and  kind.  Apostasy,  the  rebellion  and 
corruption  of  the  human  heart,  has  converted  the 
law  of  God  into  an  exacting  task-master  and  an 
avenging  magistrate.  For  the  law  says  to  every 
man  what  St.  Paul  says  of  the  magistrate :  "  Kulers 
are  not  a  terror  to  good  works,  but  to  the  evil. 
Wilt  thou,  then,  not  be  afraid  of  the  power?  do 
tliat  which  is  good,  and  thou  shalt  "have  praise  of 
the  same.  For  he  is  the  minister  of  God  to  thee  for 
good  :  hut  if  thou  do  that  which  is  evil^  be  afraid.'''' 
If  man  were  onlv  conformed  to  the  law  ;  if  the  in- 
clination  of  his  heart  were  only  in  harmony  with 
his  sense  of  duty;  the  ten  commandments  would  not 
be  accompanied  with  any  thunders  or  lightnings, 
and  the  discharge  of  duty  would  be  as  easy,  spon- 

'Romans  vii.  13,  14. 


244  THE   ORIGINAL    AND    THE    ACTUAL 

taneous,  and  as  iniicli  without  effort,  as  the  practice 
of  sin  now  is. 

Thus  have  we  considered  two  particulars  in  which 
the  Divine  law,  originally  intended  to  render  man 
happy,  and  intrinsically  adapted  to  do  so,  now  ren- 
ders him  miserable.  The  commandment  which  was 
ordained  to  life,  he  now  finds  to  be  unto  death,  be- 
cause it  places  him  under  a  continual  restraint,  and 
drives  him  to  a  perpetual  effort.  These  two  partic- 
ulars, we  need  not  say,  are  not  all  the  modes  in 
which  sin  has  converted  the  moral  law  from  a  joy 
to  a  sorrow.  We  have  not  discussed  the  great  sub- 
ject of  guilt  and  penalty.  This  violated  lavv  charges 
home  the  past  disobedience  and  threatens  an  ever- 
lasting damnation,  and  thus  fills  the  sinful  soul  w^ith 
fears  and  forebodings.  In  this  way,  also,  the  law 
becomes  a  terrible  organ  and  instrument  of  miseiy, 
and  is  found  to  be  unto  death.  But  the  limits  of 
this  discourse  compel  us  to  stop  the  discussion  here, 
and  to  deduce  some  practical  lessons  which  are 
suggested  by  it. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  we  are  taught  by  the  sub- 
ject, as  thus  considered,  that  the  mere  sense  of  duty 
is  not  Christianity.  If  this  is  all  that  a  man  is  pos- 
sessed of,  he  is  not  prepared  for  the  day  of  judgment, 
and  the  future  life.  For  the  sense  of  duty,  alone 
and  by  itself,  causes  misery  in  a  soul  that  has  not 
performed  its  duty.  The  law  worketh  wrath,  in 
a  creature  who  has  not  obeyed  the  lavv.  The 
man  that  doeth  these  things  shall  indeed  live  by 


EELATIOX    OF    MAN    TO    LAW.  245 

them ;  but  he  who  has  not  done  them  must  die  by 
them. 

There  have  been,  and  still  are,  great  mistakes 
made  at  this  point.  Men  have  supposed  that  an 
active  conscience,  and  a  lofty  susceptibility  towards 
right  and  wrong,  will  fit  them  to  appear  before 
God,  and  have,  therefore,  rejected  Christ  the  Pro- 
pitiation. They  have  substituted  ethics  for  the 
gospel ;  natural  religion  for  revealed.  *'  I  know," 
sayslmmanuel  Kant,  "of  but  two  beautiful  things; 
the  starry  heavens  above  my  head,  and  the  sense  of 
duty  within  my  heart." ^  But,  is  the  sense  of  duty 
heautiful  to  apostate  man  ?  to  a  being  who  is  not 
conformed  to  it  ?  Does  the  holy  law  of  God  over- 
arch him  like  the  firmament,  "tinged  with  a  blue 
of  heavenly  dye,  and  starred  with  sparkling  gold  V 
Nay,  nay.  If  there  be  any  beauty  in  the  condemn- 
ing law  of  God,  for  man  the  transgressor,  it  is  the 
beauty  of  the  lightnings.  There  is  a  splendor  in 
them,  but  there  is  a  terror  also.  Not  until  He 
who  is  the  end  of  the  law  for  riii:hteousness  has 
clothed  me  with  His  panoply,  and  shielded  me 
from  their  glittering  shafts  in  the  clefts  of  the 
Rock,  do  I  dare  to  look  at  them,  as  they  leap  from 
ci'ao;  to  craof,  and  shine  from  the  east  even  unto  the 
west. 

We  do  not  deny  that  the  consciousness  of  respon- 


'  Kant  :  Kritikder  Praktischen  known,  nnd  wliicli  I  liave  ein- 
Veriiunlt  (Uesclilnsz). — DeStael's  ployed,  is  less  guarded  than  the 
reuderiug,     which     ia     so     well    oriyinal. 


246  THE    OEIGINAL    AND    THE    ACTUAL 

siblHty  is  a  lofty  one,  and  are  by  no  means  insen- 
sible to. the  grand  and  swelling  sentiments  concern- 
ing the  moral  law,  and  human  duty,  to  which  this 
Doble  thinker  gives  utterance.^  But  we  are  certain 
that  if  the  sense  of  duty  had  pressed  upon  him  to 
the  degree  that  it  did  upon  St.  Paul ;  had  the  com- 
mandinent  "  come  "  to  him  with  the  convicting  ener- 
gy that  it  did  to  St.  Augustine,  and  to  Pascal ;  he 
too  would  have  discovered  that  the  law  which  was 
ordained  to  life  is  found  to  be  unto  death.  So  long  as 
man  stands  at  a  distance  from  the  moral  law,  he  can. 
admire  its  glory  and  its  beauty  ;  but  when  it  comes 
close  to  him ;  when  it  comes  home  to  him  ;  when  it 
becomes  a  discerner  of  the  thoughts  and  intents  of 
the  heart ;  then  its  glory  is  swallowed  up  in  its  ter- 
ror, and  its  beauty  is  lost  in  its  truth.  Then  he 
who  was  alive  without  the  law  becomes  slain  by 
the  law.  Then  this  ethical  admiration  of  the  deca- 
logue is  exchanged  for  an  evangelical  trust  in  Jesus 
Christ. 

2.  And  this  leads  us  to  remark,  in  the  second 
place,  that  this  subject  shows  the  mecming  of 
Chrisfs  worh  of  Redemption.  The  law  for  an  alien- 
ated and  corrupt  soul  is  a  burden.  It  cannot  be 
otherwise;  for  it  imposes  a  perpetual  restraint,  ur- 
ges up  to  an  unwelcome  duty,  and  charges  home  a 
fearful  guilt.  Christ  is  well  named  the  Redeemer^ 
because  He  frees  the  sinful  soul  from  all  this.     He 

'  Compare   tlie   fine    apostro-      nunft,     p.    214,     (Ed.     Eosen- 
plie  to  Duty.     Pkaktiscue  Vee-      kranz.) 


BELATIOIT    OF   MAN   TO    LAW.  247 

delivers  it  from  the  penalty,  by  assuming  it  all  upon 
Himself,  and  making  complete  satisfaction  to  tlie 
broken  law.  He  delivers  it  from  the  perpetual  re- 
straint and  the  irksome  effort,  by  so  renewing  and 
changing  the  heart  that  it  becomes  a  delight  to  keep 
the  law.  We  observed,  in  the  first  part  of  the  dis- 
course, that  if  man  could  only  bring  the  inclination 
of  his  heart  into  agreement  with  his  sense  of  duty, 
he  would  be  happy  in  obeying,  and  the  conscious- 
ness of  restraint  and  of  hateful  effort  would  disap- 
pear. This  is  precisely  what  Christ  accomplishes 
by  His  Spirit.  He  brings  the  human  heart  into 
harmony  with  the  Divine  law,  as  it  was  in  the  l)e- 
ginning,  and  thus  rescues  it  from  its  bondage  and  its 
toil.  Obedience  becomes  a  pleasure,  and  the  service 
of  God,  the  highest  Christian  liberty.  Oh,  would 
that  by  the  act  of  faith,  you  might  experience  this 
liberating  effect  of  the  redemption  that  is  in  Christ 
Jesus.  So  long  as  you  are  out  of  Christ,  you  are 
iinder  a  burden  that  will  every  day  grow  heavier, 
and  may  prove  to  be  fixed  and  unremovable  as  the 
mountains.  That  is  a  fearful  punishment  which 
the  poet  Dante  represents  as  being  inflicted  upon 
those  who  were  guilty  of  pride.  The  poor  wretches 
are  compelled  to  support  enormous  masses  of  stone 
which  bend  them  over  to  the  ground,  and,  in  his 
own  stern  phrase,  "  crumple  up  their  knees  into 
their  breasts."  Thus  they  stand,  stooping  over, 
eveiy  nuiscle  trembling,  the  heavy  stone  weighing 
fl^tm  down,  and  yet  tliey  are  not  permitted  to  fall, 


248  EELATIOI^    OF   MAN    TO    LAW. 

and  rest  themselves  upon  the  earth.^  In  this  crouch 
ing  posture,  they  must  carry  the  weary  heavy  load 
without  relief,  and  with  a  distress  so  great  that,  in 
the  poet's  own  language, 

"it  seemed 
As  he,  who  showed  most  patience  in  his  look, 
Wailing  exclaimed  :  I  can  endure  no  more."  * 

Such  is  the  posture  of  man  unredeemed.  There 
is  a  burden  on  him,  under  which  he  stoops  and 
crouches.  It  is  a  burden  compounded  of  guilt  and 
corruption.  It  is  lifted  off  by  Ciirist,  and  by  Christ 
only.  The  soul  itself  can  never  expiate  its  guilt ; 
can  never  cleanse  its  pollution.  We  urge  you,  once 
more,  to  the  act  of  faitli  in  the  Hedeemer  of  the 
world.  We  beseech  you,  once  more,  to  make  "  the 
redemption  that  is  in  Christ  Jesus "  your  own. 
The  instant  you  plead  the  merit  of  Christ's  oblation, 
in  simple  confidence  in  its  atoning  efficacy,  that  in- 
stant the  heavy  burden  is  lifted  off  by  an  Almighty 
hand,  and  your  curved,  stooping,  trembling,  aching 
form  once  more  stands  erect,  and  you  walk  abroad 
in  the  liberty  wherewith  Christ  makes  the  human 
creature  free. 

'  "Let  their  eyes  be  darkened,     down  their  back  alway."     Rom. 
that  they  may  not  see,  and  bow     xi.  10. 

*  Dante:  Purgatory  x.  126-128. 


THE  SIN  OF  OMISSIOI^. 


Matthew  x\x.  20. — "Tlie  young  man  saith  unto  liim,  All  these  things  have 
I  kept  from  my  youth  up:  what  lack  I  yet?  " 


The  narrative  from  wliich  the  text  is  taken  is 
familiar  to  all  readers  of  the  Bible.  A  wealthy 
young  man,  of  unljlemished  morals  and  amiable  dis- 
position, came  to  our  Lord,  to  inquire  His  opinion 
respecting  his  own  good  estate.  He  asked  what  good 
thing  he  should  do,  in  order  to  inherit  eternal  life. 
The  fact  that  he  applied  to  Christ  at  all,  shows  that 
he  was  not  entirely  at  rest  in  his  own  mind.  He 
could  truly  say  that  he  had  kept  the  ten  command 
ments  fi'om  his  youth  up,  in  an  outward  mannei- ; 
and  yet  he  was  ill  at  ease.  He  was  afrjiid  that  when 
the  earthly  life  was  over,  he  might  not  be  able  to  en- 
dure the  judgment  of  God,  and  might  fail  to  enter 
into  that  happy  paradise  of  which  the  Old  Testament 
Scriptures  so  often  speak,  and  of  which  he  had  so 
often  read,  in  them.  This  young  man,  though  a 
moralist,  was  not  a  self-sati-fied  or  a  self-conceited 
one.  For,  had  he  been  like  the  Pharisee  a  thorough- 
ly   blinded   and  self-righteous  person,  like  him   he 


250  THE    SIN    OF    OMISSION, 

never  would  Lave  approached  Jesus  of  NazaretL,  to 
obtain  His  opinion  respecting  his  own  religious 
character  and  prospects.  Like  him,  he  would  have 
scorned  to  ask  our  Lord's  judgment  upon  any  mat- 
ters of  religion.  Like  the  Pharisees,  he  would  have 
said,  "  We  see,"  ^  and  the  state  of  his  heart  and  his 
future  prospects  would  have  given  him  no  anxiety. 
But  he  was  not  a  conceited  and  presumptuous 
Pharisee.  He  was  a  serious  and  thoughtful  person, 
though  not  a  pious  and  holy  one.  For,  he  did  not 
love  God  more  than  he  loved  his  worldly  posses- 
sions. He  had  not  obeyed  that  first  and  great  com- 
mand, upon  which  hang  all  the  law  and  the  proph- 
ets, conformity  to  which,  alone,  constitutes  right- 
eousness :  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with 
all  thy  heart,  and  all  thy  soul,  and  all  thy  mind,  and 
all  thy  strength."  He  was  not  right  at  heart,  and 
was  therefore  unprepared  for  death  and  judgment. 
This  he  seems  to  have  had  some  dim  apprehension 
of.  For  why,  if  he  had  felt  that  his  external  moral- 
ity was  a  solid  rock  for  his  feet  to  stand  upon,  why 
should  he  have  betaken  himself  to  Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth, to  ask :  "  What  lack  I  yet  ?  " 

It  was  not  what  he  had  done,  but  what  he  had 
left  undone,  that  wakened  fears  and  forebodings 
.in  this  young  ruler's  mind.  The  outward  obser- 
vance of  the  ten  commandments  was  right  and 
well  in  its  own  way  and  place ;  but  the  failure  to 
obey,  from  the   heart,  the  first  and  great  command 

'  Jolin  ix.  41. 


THE   Sm    OF    OMISSION,  251 

was  tLe  condemnation  tliat  rested  upon  Lim.  He 
probably  knew  this,  in  some  measure.  He  was  not 
confidently  certain  of  eternal  life  ;  and  therefore  he 
came  to  the  Great  Teacher,  hoping  to  elicit  from 
Him  an  answer  that  would  quiet  his  conscience, 
and  allow  him  to  repose  upon  bis  morality  while 
he  continued  to  love  this  world  supremely.  The 
Great  Teacher  pierced  him  with  an  arrow.  He  said 
to  him,  "  If  thou  wilt  be  perfect,  go  and  sell  that 
thou  hast,  and  give  to  the  poor,  and  thou  shalthave 
treasure  in  heaven  :  and  come  and  follow  me."  This 
direction  showed  him  what  he  lacked. 

This  incident  leads  us  to  consider  the  condem- 
nation that  rests  upon  every  man,  for  his  failure 
in  duty ;  the  guilt  that  cleaves  to  him,  on  account 
of  what  he  has  not  done.  The  Westminster  Cat- 
echism defines  sin  to  be  "  any  loant  of  conformity 
unto,  or  any  transgression  of,  the  law  of  God." 
Not  to  be  conformed,  in  the  heart,  to  the  law  and 
will  of  God,  is  as  truly  sin,  as  positively  to  steal,  or 
positively  to  commit  murder.  Failure  to  come  up 
to  the  line  of  rectitude  is  as  punishable,  as  to  step 
over  that  line.  God  requires  of  His  creature  that  he 
stand  squarely  vjjon  the  line  of  righteousness ;  if 
therefore  he  is  oft*  that  line,  because  he  has  not  come 
up  to  it,  he  is  as  guilty  as  when  he  transgresses, 
or  passes  across  it,  upon  the  other  side.  This  is 
the  reason  that  the  sin  of  omission  is  as  punishable 
as  the  sin  of  commission.  In  either  case  alike^  l-*o 
man  is  off  the  line  of  rectitude.     Hence,  in  the  final 


252  THE    SE^    OF    OMISSION. 

day,  man  will  be  condemned  for  what  lie  lacks,  for 
what  he  comes  short  of,  in  moral  character.  "Want 
of  conformity  to  the  Divine  law  as  really  conflicts 
with  the  Divine  law,  as  an  overt  transo-ression  does, 
because  it  carries  man  off  and  away  from  it.  One 
of  the  Greek  words  for  sin  (aiiapravelv)  signifies,  to 
miss  the  mark.  When  the  archer  shoots  at  the  tar- 
get, he  as  really  fails  to  strike  it,  if  his  arrow  falls 
short  of  it,  as  when  he  shoots  over  and  beyond  it. 
If  he  strains  upon  the  bow  with  such  a  feeble  force, 
tliat  the  arrow  drops  upon  the  ground  longbefore  it 
comes  up  to  the  mark,  his  shot  is  as  total  a  failure, 
as  when  he  strains  upon  the  bow-string  with  all 
his  force,  but  owins;  to  an  ill-directed  aim  sends  his 
weapon  into  the  air.  One  of  the  New  Testament 
terms  for  sin  contains  this  figure  and  illustration,  in 
its  etymology.  Sin  is  a  want  of  conformity  unto,  a 
failure  to  come  clear  up  to,  the  line  and  mark  pre- 
scribed by  God,  as  well  a  violent  and  forcible  break- 
ing over  and  beyond  the  line  and  the  mark.  The 
lack  of  holy  love,  the  lack  of  holy  fear,  the  lack  of 
filial  trust  and  confidence  in  God, — the  negative 
absence  of  these  and  other  qualities  in  the  heart  is 
as  truly  sin  and  guilt,  as  is  the  positive  and  open 
violation  of  a  particular  commandment,  in  the  act 
of  theft,  or  lying,  or  Sabbath-breaking. 

We  propose,  then,  to  direct  attention  to  that  form 
and  aspect  of  human  depravity  which  consists  in 
coming  short  of  the  aim  and  end  presented  to  man 
by  his  Maker, — that  form  and  aspect  of  sin  which 


THE   SIN    OF    OMISSION.  253 

is  presented  in  the  young  ruler's  inquiry  :  "  What 
lack  I  yet?" 

It  is  a  comprehensive  answer  to  this  question  to 
say,  that  every  natural  man  lacks  sincere  and  filial 
love  of  God.  This  was  the  sin  of  the  moral,  but 
worldly,  the  amiable,  but  earthly-minded,  young 
man.  Endow  him,  in  your  fancy,  with  all  the  ex- 
cellence you  please,  it  still  lies  upon  the  face  of  the 
narrative,  that  he  loved  money  more  than  he  loved 
the  Lord  God  Almighty.  When  the  Son  of  God 
bade  him  go  and  sell  his  property,  and  give  it  to 
the  poor,  and  then  come  and  follow  Him  as  a  docile 
discii)le  like  Peter  and  James  and  John,  he  went 
away  sad  in  his  mind ;  for  he  had  great  possessions. 
This  was  a  reasonable  requirement,  though  a  very 
tiying  one.  To  command  a  young  man  of  wealth 
and  standing  immediately  to  strip  himself  of  all  his 
property,  to  leave  the  circle  in  which  he  had  been 
born  and  brought  up,  and  to  follow  the  Son  of  Man, 
who  had  not  where  to  lay  His  head,  up  and  down 
through  Palestine,  through  good  report  and  through 
evil  report, — to  put  such  a  burden  upon  such  a 
young  man  was  to  lay  hira  under  a  very  heavy  load. 
Looking  at  it  from  a  merely  human  and  worldly 
point  of  view,  it  is  not  strange  that  the  young  ruler 
declined  to  take  it  upon  his  shoulders ;  though  he 
felt  sad  in  declinini]^,  because  he  had  the  mismvinc: 
that  in  declining  he  was  sealing  his  doom.  But, 
had  he  loved  the  Lord  God  with  all  his  heart ;  had 
he  been  conformed  unto  the  first  and  fjreat  com- 

12 


»?• 


254  THE    SIN    OF    OMISSION. 

mand,  in  his  lieart  and  affections ;  had  lie  not 
lacked  a  spii'itual  and  filial  affection  towards  his 
Maker;  he  would  hav^e  obeyed. 

For,  the  circumstances  under  which  this  command 
was  given  must  be  borne  in  mind.  It  issued  di- 
rectly from  the  lips  of  the  Son  of  Grod  Himself.  It 
was  not  an  ordinary  call  of  Providence,  in  the  ordi- 
nary manner  in  which  God  summons  man  to  duty. 
There  is  reason  to  suppose  that  the  young  ruler 
knew  and  felt  that  Christ  had  authority  to  give 
such  directions.  We  know  not  what  were  precisely 
liis  views  of  the  person  and  office  of  Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth ;  but  the  fact  that  he  came  to  Him  seeking  in- 
struction respecting  the  everlasting  kingdom  of  God 
and  the  endless  life  of  the  soul,  and  the  yet  further 
fact  that  he  ^vent  away  in  sadness  because  he  did 
not  find  it  in  his  heart  to  obey  the  instructions  that 
he  had  received,  prove  that  he  was  at  least  some- 
what impressed  with  the  Divine  authority  of  our 
Lord.  For,  had  he  regarded  Him  as  a  mere  or- 
dinary mortal,  knowing  no  more  than  any  other 
man  concerning  the  eternal  kingdom  of  God,  why 
should  His  words  have  distressed  him  ?  Had  this 
young  ruler  taken  the  view  of  our  Lord  which 
was  held  by  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  like  them 
ke  would  never  have  souo-ht  instruction  from  Him 

o 

in  a  respectful  and  sincere  manner ;  and,  like  them, 
he  would  have  replied  to  the  command  to  strip  him- 
self of  all  his  property,  leave  the  social  circles  to 
which  he  belonged,  and  follow  the  despised  Naza- 


^ 


THE    SIX    OF    OMISSION.  2oO 

rene,  with  the  curling  lip  of  scorn.  He  would  not 
have  gone  away  in  sorrow,  l)iU  in  contein])t,  AVe 
iimst  assume,  therefore,  that  this  young  ruler  felt 
that  the  person  with  whom  he  was  conversing,  and 
■who  had  given  him  this  extraordinary  command, 
had  authority  to  give  it.  We  do  not  gather  from 
the  narrative  that  he  doubted  upon  this  ])oint. 
Had  he  doubted,  it  would  have  relieved  the  sorrow 
with  which  his  mind  was  disturbed.  He  might 
have  justified  his  refusal  to  obey,  by  the  considera- 
tion that  this  Jesus  of  Nazareth  had  no  right  to 
summon  him,  or  any  other  man,  to  forsake  the  world 
and  attach  himself  to  His  person  and  purposes,  if 
any  such  consideration  had  entered  his  mind.  No, 
the  sorrow,  the  deep,  deep  sorrow  and  sadness,  with 
which  he  went  away  to  the  beggarly  elements  of 
his  houses  and  his  lands,  proves  that  he  knew  too 
well  that  this  wonderful  Being  who  was  working 
miracles,  and  speaking  words  of  wisdom  that  never 
man  spake,  had  indeed  authority  and  light  to  say 
to  him,  and  to  every  other  man,  "  Go  and  sell  that 
thon  hast,  and  give  to  the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have 
treasure  in  heaven :  and  come  and  follow  me." 

Though  the  com:.:and  was  indeed  an  extraordinary 
one,  it  was  gi^en  i;i  an  extraordinary  manner,  by  an 
extraordinary  Being.  That  young  ruler  was  not  re- 
quired to  do  any  more  than  you  and  I  would  be 
obligated  to  do,  i)i  the  same  circumstances.  It  is 
indeed  true,  that  in  the  cr<^^7iar^  providence  of  God, 
you  and  I  are  not  summoned  to  sell  all  our  posses- 


256  THE    SIIT    OF    OMISSION. 

sions,  and  distribute  them  to  the  poor,  and  to  go  up 
and  down  the  streets  of  this  city,  or  up  and  down 
the  Jiigh-ways  and  by-ways  of  the  land,  as  mis- 
sionaries of  Chiist.  But  if  the  call  were  extra- 
ordinary^ — if  the  heavens  should  open  above 
oxir  heads,  and  a  voice  from  the  skies  should 
command  us  in  a  manner  not  to  be  doubted  or  dis- 
puted to  do  this  particular  thing,  we  ought  imme- 
diately to  do  it.  And  if  the  love  of  God  were  in 
our  hearts;  if  we  were  iuwardly  "  conformed  unto  " 
the  Divine  law ;  if  there  were  nothino;  lackino^  in 
our  religious  character;  we  should  obey  with  the 
same  directness  and  alacrity  with  which  Peter  and 
Andrew,  and  James  and  John,  left  their  nets  and  their 
fishing-boat,  their  earthly  avocations,  their  fathers 
and  their  fathers'  households,  and  followed  Christ 
to  the  end  of  their  days.  In  the  present  circum- 
stances of  the  church  and  the  world.  Christians 
must  follow  the  ordinary  indications  of  Divine 
Providence ;  and  though  these  do  unquestionably 
call  upon  them  to  make  far  greater  sacrifices  for  the 
cause  of  Christ  than  they  now  make,  yet  they  do 
not  call  upon  them  to  sell  all  that  they  have,  and 
give  it  to  the  poor.  But  they  ought  to  be  ready 
and  willing  to  do  so,  in  case  God  by  any  remarkable 
and  direct  expression  should  indicate  that  this  is 
His  will  and  pleasure.  Should  our  Lord,  for  illus- 
tration, descend  again,  and  in  His  own  person  say 
to  His  people,  as  He  did  to  the  young  ruler :  "  Sell 
all  that  ye  have,  and  give  to  the  poor,  and  go  up 


THE   SIN    OF    OMISSION.  257 

and  down  the  earth  preaching  the  gospel,"  it  would 
be  the  duty  of  every  rich  Christian  to  strip  himself 
of  all  his  riches,  and  of  every  poor  Chi'istiun  to 
make  himself  yet  poorer,  and  of  the  whole  Church 
to  adopt  the  same  course  that  was  taken  by  the 
early  Christians,  who  "  had  all  things  common,  and 
sold  their  possessions  and  goods  and  parted  them 
to  all  men,  as  every  man  had  need."  The  direct 
and  explicit  command  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Chi'ist  to 
do  any  particular  thing  must  be  ol)eyed  at  all  haz- 
ards, and  at  all  cost.  Should  He  command  any  one 
of  His  disciples  to  lay  down  his  life,  or  to  undergo 
a  severe  discipline  and  experience  in  His  service. 
He  must  be  obeyed.  This  is  what  He  means  when 
He  says,  "If  any  man  come  to  me,  and  hate  not 
his  father,  and  mother,  and  wife,  and  children,  and 
brethren,  and  sisters,  yea  and  his  own  life  also,  he 
cannot  be  my  disciple.  And  whosoever  dotii  not 
bear  his  cross,  and  come  after  me,  cannot  be  my 
disciple  "  (Luke  xiv.  26,  27). 

The  young  ruler  was  subjected  to  this  test.  It 
was  his  privilege, — and  it  was  a  great  privilege, — 
to  see  the  Son  of  God  face  to  face ;  to  hear  His 
words  of  wisdom  and  authority ;  to  know  Avithout 
any  doubt  or  ambiguity  what  particular  thing 
God  would  have  him  do.  And  lie  refused  to  do  it. 
He  was  moral;  he  was  amiable;  but  he  refused 
point-hlanh  to  obey  the  direct  command  of  God 
addressed  to  him  fiom  the  very  li})s  of  God.  It 
was   with   him   as    it  would  be    with  us,  if   the 


258  THE    SIN    OF    OMISSION. 

sky  should  open  over  our  heads,  and  the  Son  of 
God  should  descend,  and  with  His  own  lips  should 
command  us  to  perform  a  particular  service,  and 
we  should  be  disobedient  to  the  heavenly  vision, 
and  should  say  to  the  Eternal  Son  of  God :  "  We 
will  not."  Think  you  that  there  is  nothing,  laching 
in  such  a  character  as  this  ?  Is  this  religious  perfec- 
tion ?  Is  such  a  heart  as  this  "  conformed  unto  ^' 
the  law  and  will  of  God  ? 

If,  then,  we  look  into  the  character  of  the  young 
ruler,  we  perceive  that  there  was  in  it  no  supreme 
affection  for  God.  On  the  contrary,  he  loved  liini- 
self  with  all  his  heart,  and  soul,  and  mind,  and 
strength.  Even  his  religious  anxiety,  which  led 
him  to  our  Lord  for  His  opinion  concerning  his  good 
estate,  proved  to  be  a  merely  selfish  feeling.  He 
desired  immortal  felicity  beyond  the  tomb, — and 
the  most  irreligious  man  upon  earth  desires  this, — 
but  he  did  not  possess  such  an  affection  for  God  as 
inclined,  and  enabled,  him  to  obey  His  explicit  com- 
mand to  make  a  sacrifice  of  his  worldly  possessions 
for  His  glory.  And  this  lack  of  supreme  love  to 
God  was  sin.  It  was  a  deviation  from  the  line  of 
eternal  rectitude  and  righteousness,  as  really  and 
truly  as  murder,  adultery,  or  theft,  or  any  outward 
breach  of  any  of  those  commandments  which  he 
affirmed  he  had  kept  from  his  youth  uj).  This 
coming  short  of  the  Divine  honor  and  glory  was 
as  much  contrary  to  the  Divine  law,  as  any  overt 
transgression  of  it  could  be. 


TUE    SIN    OF    OMISSION.  259 

Fjr  love  is  the  fulfillmo:  of  tlie  law.  The  whole 
law,  according  to  Christ,  is  summed  up  and  con- 
tained in  these  words :  "  Thou  shall  love  the  Lord 
thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  thy  neighbor  as 
thj'self."  To  be  destitute  of  this  heavenly  affec- 
tion is,  therefore,  to  break  the  law  at  the  very  cen- 
tre and  in  the  very  substance  of  it.  Men  tell  us, 
like  this  young  ruler,  that  they  do  not  murder,  lie, 
or  steal, — that  they  observe  all  the  commandments 
of  the  second  table  pertaining  to  man  and  their 
relations  to  man, — and  ask,  "  What  lack  we  yet?" 
Alexander  Pope,  in  the  most  brilliant  and  polished 
poetry  yet  composed  by  human  art,  sums  up  the 
whole  of  human  duty  in  the  observance  of  the 
rules  and  requirements  of  civil  morality,  and  af- 
firms that  "  an  honest  man  is  the  noblest  work  of 
God."  But  is  this  so  ?  Has  religion  reached  its 
last  term,  and  ultimate  limit,  when  man  respects 
the  rights  of  property  ?  Is  a  person  who  keeps 
his  hands  off  the  i^oods  and  chattels  of  his  fellow- 
creature  really  qualified  for  the  heavenly  state,  by 
reason  of  this  fact  and  virtue  of  honesty  ?  Has 
he  attained  the  chief  end  of  man  %  ^  Even  if  we 
could  suppose  a  perfect  obedience  of  all  the  statutes 
of  the  second  table,  while  those  of  the  first  table 
were  disobeyed;  even  if  one  could  fulfil  all  his  obii- 

'  Even  if  we  should  widen  tlie  tmn.     Honor    and  liigli-minded- 

jieaning  of  tlie  word  "  lionost,"  ness  towards  man  is  not  love  and 

in   the   above-ineiitioncd   dictxiia  reverence     towards    God.      The 

of  Pope,  and  make  it  include  the  spirit  of  chivalry  is  not  the  spirit 

Latin  "henestnni,"  the  same  ob-  ot'Cliristianity. 
jcctiou  wojid  lie  against  the  die- 


260  THE    SIN    OF    OMISSION. 

gations  to  his  neighbor,  while  failing  in  all  his  ob- 
ligations to  his  Maker ;  even  if  we  should  concede 
a  perfect  morality,  without  any  religion;  would 
it  be  true  that  this  moralit}^,  or  obedience  of  only 
one  of  the  two  tables  that  cover  the  whole  field  of 
human  duty,  is  sufficient  to  prepare  man  for  the 
everlasting  future,  and  the  immediate  presence  of 
God  ?  Who  has  informed  man  that  the  first  table 
of  the  law  is  of  no  consequence;  and  that  if  he 
only  loves  his  neighbor  as  himself,  he  need  not  love 
his  Maker  supremely  ? 

No  !  Aftection  in  the  heart  towards  the  great  and 
glorious  God  is  the  sum  and  substance  of  religion, 
and  whoever  is  destitute  of  it  is  irreligious  and  sin- 
ful in  the  inmost  spirit,  and  in  the  highest  degree. 
His  fault  relates  to  the  most  excellent  and  worthy 
Being  in  the  universe.  He  comes  short  of  his  duty, 
in  reference  to  that  Being  who  move  tkart  any  other 
one  is  entitled  to  his  love  and  his  services.  We 
say,  and  we  say  correctly,  that  if  a  man  fails  of 
fulfilling  his  obligations  towards  those  who  have 
most  claims  upon  him,  he  is  more  culpable  than 
when  he  fails  of  his  duty  towards  those  who  have 
less  claims  upon  him.  If  a  son  comes  short  of  his 
duty  towards  an  affectionate  and  self-sacrificing 
mothei',  we  say  it  is  a  greater  fault,  than  if  he 
comes  short  of  his  duty  to  a  fellow-citizen.  The 
parent  is  nearer  to  him  than  the  citizen,  and  he 
owes  unto  her  a  warmer  affection  of  his  heart,  and 
a  more  active  service  of  his  life,  than  he  owes  to  his 


THE   Sm    OF    OMISSION.  261 

fellow-citizen.  What  would  be  thougbt  of  that 
son  who  should  excuse  his  neglect,  or  ill-treatment, 
of  the  mother  that  bore  him,  upon  the  ground  that 
he  had  never  cheated  a  fellow-man  and  had  been 
scrupulous  in  all  his  mercantile  transactions  !  This 
but  feebly  illustrates  the  I'elation  which  every  man 
sustains  to  God,  and  the  claim  which  God  has  upon 
every  man.  Our  first  duty  and  obligation  relates 
to  our  Maker.  Our  fellow-creatures  have  claims 
upon  us;  the  dear  jiartners  of  our  blood  have 
claims  upon  us ;  our  own  pei'sonality,  with  its  infi- 
nite destiny  for  weal  or  woe,  has  claims  upon  us. 
But  no  one  of  these;  not  all  of  them  combined; 
have  uj)on  us  ihntjirst  claim  which  God  challenges 
for  Himself.  Social  life,^tlie  state  or  the  nation  to 
which  we  belong, — cannot  say  to  us :  "  Thou  shalt 
love  me  with  all  th}'  heart,  and  soul,  and  mind,  and 
strength."  The  family,  which  is  bone  of  our  bone, 
and  flesh  of  our  flesh,  cannot  say  to  us  :  "  Thou 
shalt  love  us,  with  all  thy  soul,  mind,  heai't,  and 
strength."  Even  our  own  deathless  and  priceless 
soul  cannot  say  to  us  :  "  Thou  shalt  love  me  su- 
premely, and  before  all  other  beings  and  things.'' 
But  the  infinite  and  adoraV)le  God,  the  Being  that 
made  us,  and  has  redeemed  us,  can  of  rigbt  demand 
that  we  love  and  honor  Him  first  of  all,  and  chiefest 
of  all. 

There  are  two  thoughts  suggested  by  the  sub- 
ject which  we  have  been  considering,  to  which  we 

now  invite  can  ."lid  attention. 
12* 


*262  THE    SIN    OF    OMISSION. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  this  subject  co7ivicts  every 
man  of  sin.  Our  Lord,  by  his  searching  reply  to 
the  young  ruler's  question,  "  What  lack  I  yet?" 
sent  him  away  very  sorrowful ;  and  what  man,  in 
any  age  and  country,  can  apply  the  same  test  to 
himself,  without  finding  the  same  unwillingness 
to  sell  all  that  he  has  and  give  to  the  poor, — the 
same  indisposition  to  obey  any  and  every  command 
of  God  that  crosses  his  natural  inclinations  ?  Every 
natural  man,  as  he  subjects  his  character  to  such  a 
trial  as  that  to  which  the  young  ruler  was  subjected, 
will  discover  as  he  did  that  he  lacks  supreme  love  of 
God,  and  like  him,  if  he  has  any  moral  earnestness; 
if  he  feels  at  all  the  obligation  of  duty;  will  go  away 
very  sorrowful,  because  he  perceives  very  plainly  the 
conflict  between  his  will  and  his  conscience.  How 
many  a  person,  in  the  generations  that  have  already 
gone  to  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ,  and  in  the  gene- 
ration that  is  now  on  the  way  thither,  has  been  at 
times  brought  face  to  face  with  the  great  and  first 
command, "  Thou  shall  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with 
all  thy  heart,"  and  by  some  particular  requirement 
has  been  made  conscious  of  his  utter  opposition  to 
that  great  law.  Some  special  duty  was  urged  upon 
him,  by  the  providence,  or  the  word,  or  the  Spirit 
of  God,  that  could  not  be  performed  unless  his  will 
were  subjected  to  God's  will,  and  unless  his  love  for 
himself  and  the  world  were  subordinated  to  his  love 
of  his  Maker.  If  a  young  man,  perhaps  he  was 
commanded  to  consecrate  his  talents  and  education 


THE  SIN  OF  OMissioisr.  263 

to  a  life  of  pliilantliropy  and  service  of  God  in 
the  gospel,  instead  of  a  life  devoted  to  secular 
and  pecuniary  aims.  God  said  to  him,  by  His 
providence,  and  by  conscience,  "  Go  teach  my  gos- 
pel to  the  perishing;  go  preach  my  word  to  the 
dying  and  the  lost."  But  he  loved  worldly  ease 
pleasure  and  reputation  more  than  he  loved  God ; 
and  he  refused,  and  went  away  sorrowful,  because 
this  poor  world  looked  very  bright  and  alluring, 
and  the  path  of  self-denial  and  duty  looked  very 
forbidding.  Or,  if  he  was  a  man  in  middle  life, 
perhaps  he  was  commanded  to  abate  his  interest 
in  plans  for  the  accumulation  of  wealth,  to  con- 
tract his  enterprises,  to  give  attention  to  the  con- 
cerns of  his  soul  and  the  souls  of  his  children,  to 
make  his  own  peace  with  God,  and  to  consecrate 
tlie  remainder  of  his  life  to  Christ  and  to  human 
welfare ;  and  when  this  plain  and  reasonable  course 
of  conduct  was  dictated  to  him,  he  found  his  whole 
heart  rising  up  against  the  proposition.     Our  Lord, 

alludinoj  to  the  fact  that  there  was  nothino;  in  com- 
es o 

mon  between  His  spirit,  and  the  spirit  of  Satan, 
said  to  His  disciples,  "  The  prince  of  this  world 
cometh,  and  hath  nothing  in  rae"  (John  xiv.  30). 
So,  when  the  command  to  love  God  supremely 
comes  to  this  man  of  the  world,  in  any  particular 
form,  "  it  hath  nothing  in  him."  This  first  and 
great  law  finds  no  ready  and  genial  response  within 
his  heart,  but  on  the  contrary  a  recoil  within  his 
soul  as  if  some  great  monster  had  started  up  in  his 


264  THE    SIN    01    OMISSION. 

pathway.  lie  says,  In  liis  mind,  to  the  proposition  : 
"Anything  but  that;"  and,  with  the  young  ruler, 
he  goes  away  sorrowful,  because  he  knows  that 
refusal  is  perdition. 

Is  there  not  a  wonderful  power  to  convict  of  sin. 
in  this  test  ?  If  you  try  yourself,  as  the  young 
man  did,  by  the  command,  "Thou  shalt  not  kill,' 
"Thou  shalt  not  steal,"  "Thou  shalt  not  commit 
adultery,"  you  may  succeed,  perhaps,  in  quieting^ 
your  conscience,  to  some  extent,  and  in  possessing' 
youi'self  of  the  opinion  of  your  fitness  for  the  king- 
dom of  God.  But  ask  youi-self  the  question,  "Do 
I  love  God  supremely,  and  am  I  ready  and  willing 
to  do  any  and  every  particular  thing  that  He  shall 
command  me  to  do,  even  if  it  is  plucking  out  a 
right  eye,  or  cutting  off  a  right  hand,  or  selling  all 
my  goods  to  give  to  the  poor  ? "  try  yourself  by 
tliis  test,  and  see  if  you  lack  anything  in  your 
moral  character.  When  this  thorough  and  proper 
touch-stone  of  character  is  applied,  there  is  not 
found  upon  earth  a  just  man  that  doeth  good 
and  sinneth  not.  Every  human  creature,  by  this 
test  is  concluded  under  sin.  Every  man  is  found 
lacking  in  what  he  ought  to  possess,  when  the 
words  of  the  commandment  are  sounded  in  his  ear: 
"Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy 
heart,  and  all  thy  soul,  and  all  thy  mind,  and  all 
thy  strength."  This  sum  and  substance  of  the 
Divine  law,  upon  which  hang  all  the  other  laws, 
convinces  every  man  of  sin.     For  there  is  no  escap 


THE  SIN  OF  OMissioisr.  2C5 

inff  its  force.  Lov^e  of  God  is  a  distinct  and  definite 
feelint^  and  every  person  knows  whether  he  ever 
experienced  it.  Every  man  knows  whether  it  is, 
oi-  is  not,  an  affection  of  his  heart ;  and  he  knows 
that  if  it  l^e  wanting,  the  foundation  of  religion  is 
wanting:  in  his  soul,  and  the  sum  and  substance  of 
sin  is  there. 

2.  And  this  leads  to  the  second  and  concluding 
thousfht  susfcrested  by  the  subject,  namely,  that  ex- 
cept a  7na?i  he  born  again,  lie  cannot  see  the  Mncjdom 
of  (jrod.  If  there  be  any  truth  in  the  discussion 
throu2:h  which  we  have  passed,  it  is  plain  and  in- 
controvertible, that  to  be  destitute  of  holy  love  to 
God  is  a  departure  and  deviation  from  the  moral 
law.  It  is  a  coming  short  of  the  great  requirement 
that  rests  upon  every  accountable  creature  of  God, 
and  this  is  as  truly  sin  and  guilt  as  any  violent  and 
open  passing  over  and  beyond  the  line  of  rectitude. 
The  sin  of  omission  is  as  deep  and  damning  as  the 
sin  of  commission.  "  Forgive,"— said  the  dying 
archbishop  Usher, — "forgive  all  my  sins,  especially 
my  sins  of  omission." 

But^  hoAV  is  this  lack  to  be  supplied  ?  IIo^v  is 
this  great  hiatus  in  human  character  to  be  filled  up  ? 
How  shall  the  fountain  of  holy  and  filial  affection 
towards  God  l)e  made  to  gush  up  into  everlasting 
life,  within  your'  now  unloving  and  hostile  heai't  ? 
There  is  no  answer  to  this  question  of  (piestions, 
but  in  the  Person  and  Work  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
If  God  shall  shed  abroad  His  love  in  your  heart,  l)y 


266  THE    SIN    OF    OMISSION. 

tlie  Holy  Gliost  wliicli  is  given  unto  you,  you  will 
know  the  blessedness  of  a  new  affection  ;  and  will 
be  able  to  say  with  Peter,  "  Thou  knowest  all 
things ;  thou  knowest  that  I  love  thee."  You  are 
shut  up  to  this  method,  and  this  influence.  To 
generate  within  yourself  this  new  spiritual  emotion 
which  you  have  never  yet  felt,  is  utterly  impossible. 
Yet  you  must  get  it,  or  religion  is  impossible,  and 
immortal  life  is  impossible.  Would  that  you  might 
feel  your  straits,  and  your  helplessness.  Would, 
that  you  might  perceive  your  total  lack  of  supreme 
love  of  "God,  as  the  young  ruler  perceived  his;  and 
would  that,  unlike  him,  instead  of  going  away  from 
the  Son  of  God,  you  would  go  to  Him,  crying, 
"  Lord  create  within  me  a  clean  heart,  and  renew 
within  me  a  right  spirit."  Then  the  problem  would 
be  solved,  and  having  peace  with  God  through  the 
blood  of  Christ,  the  love  of  God  would  be  shed 
abroad  in  your  hearts,  through  the  Holy  Ghost 
given  unto  you. 


THE   SINFULNESS   OF    ORIGINAL    SIN. 


Matthew  xix.  20. — "The  young  man  saitli  unto  him,  All  these  things  have 
I  kept  from  my  youth  up :  what  lack  I  yet  ?  " 


In  the  preceding  discourse  from  tliese  words,  we 
discussed  that  form  and  aspect  of  sin  which  consists 
iu  "coming  short"  of  the  Divine  law,  or,  as  tlie 
"Westminster  Creed  states  it,  in  a  "  want  of  confor- 
mity "  unto  it.  The  deep  and  fundamental  sin  of 
the  young  ruler,  we  found,  lay  in  what  he  lacked. 
When  our  Lord  tested  him,  he  proved  to  be  utter- 
ly destitute  of  love  to  God.  His  soul  was  a  com- 
plete vacuum,  in  reference  to  that  great  holy  affec- 
tion which  fills  the  hearts  of  all  the  good  beings 
before  the  throne  of  God,  and  without  which  no 
creature  can  stand,  or  will  wish  to  stand,  in  the  Di- 
vine presence.  The  young  ruler,  though  outwardly 
moral  and  amiable,  when  searchod  in  the  inward 
parts  was  found  wanting  in  the  sum  and  substance 
of  religion.  He  did  not  love  God  ;  and  he  did  love 
himself  and  his  possessions. 

What  man  has  omitted  to  do,  what  man  is  des- 
titute of, — this  is  a  species  of  sin  which  he  does  not 


268  SINFULNESS    OF    OEIGLNAL    SIN. 

sufficiently  consider,  and  whicli  is  weighing  him 
down  to  perdition.  The  unregenerate  person  when 
pressed  to  repent  of  his  sins,  and  believe  on  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  often  beats  back  the  kind  effort, 
by  a  question  like  that  which  Pilate  put  to  the 
infuriated  Jews :  "  Why,  what  evil  have  I  done  ? " 
It  is  the  subject  of  his  actual  and  overt  transgres- 
sions that  comes  first  into  bis  thoughts,  and,  like  the 
young  ruler,  he  tells  his  spiritual  friend  and  adviser 
that  he  has  kept  all  the  commandments  from  his 
youth  up.  The  conviction  of  sin  would  be  more 
common  if  the  natural  man  would  consider  his  yY//^ 
ures  j  if  he  would  look  into  his  heart  and  perceive 
what  he  is  dedltute  of,  and  into  his  conduct  and  see 
what  he  has  left  undone. 

In  pursuing  this  sul)ject,  we  propose  to  show, 
still  further,  the  guiltiness  of  every  man,  from  the 
fiict  that  he  lachs  the  original  rigliteousn.ess  tit  at 
once  belonged  to  him..  We  shall  endeavor  to  prove 
that  every  child  of  Adam  is  under  condemnation, 
or,  in  the  words  of  Christ,  that  "  the  wrath  of  God 
abides  upon  him  "  (John  iii.  86),  because  he  is  not 
possessed  of  that  pure  and  perfect  character  which 
his  Maker  s-ave  him  in  the  bes-innino;.  Man  is  cul- 
pable  for  not  continuing  to  stand  upon  the  high 
and  sinless  position,  in  which  he  was  originally 
placed.  When  the  young  ruler's  question  is  put  to 
the  natural  man,  and  the  inquiry  is  made  as  to  his 
defects  and  deficiency,  it  is  invariably  discovered 
that  he  lacks  the  imao;:e  of  God  in  which  he  was 


SINFULNESS    OF    ORIGINAL    SIN,  209 

created.  And  for  a  rational  beinsr  to  be  destitute 
of  the  image  of  God  is  sin,  guilt,  and  condemnation, 
because  every  rational  being  has  once  received  this 
imao-e. 

God  lias  the  riglit  to  demand  from  every  one  of 
Lis  responsible  creatures,  all  that  the  creature  might 
be,  had  he  retained  possession  of  the  endowments 
which  he  received  at  creation,  and  had  he  employed 
them  ^vith  fidelity.  The  perfect  gifts  and  capacities 
originally  bestowed  w^on  man,  and  not  the  muti- 
lated and  damaged  powers  subsequently  arising  from 
a  destructive  act  of  self-will,  furnish  the  proper  rule 
of  measurement,  in  estimating  human  merit  or  de- 
merit. The  fiiculties  of  intelligence  and  will  as  lui- 
fallen,  and  not  as  fiillen,  determine  the  amount  of 
holiness  and  of  service  that  may  be  demanded, 
upon  principles  of  strict  justice,  from  every  individ- 
ual. All  that  man  "comes  short"  of  this  is  so 
much  sin,  guilt,  and  condemnation. 

When  the  orreat  Sovereio-n  and  Judo;e  looks  down 
from  Ilis  throne  of  righteousness  and  equity,  upon 
any  one  of  the  children  of  men.  He  considers  what 
that  creature  was  by  creation,  and  compares  his 
present  character  and  conduct  with  the  character 
with  which  he  was  originally  endowed,  and  the  con- 
duct that  would  naturally  liave  flowed  therefrom. 
God  made  man  holy  and  perfect.  God  created  man 
in  his  own  image  (Gen  i.  26),  "  emlued  with  knowl- 
edge, righteousness,  and  true  lioliness,  having  tlie 
law  of  God  written  in  his  heart,  and  power  tolulfil 


2*70  SINFULNESS    OF   ORIGINAL    SIN. 

it."  This  is  the  statement  of  the  Creed  which  we 
a(3cept  as  a  fair  and  accurate  digest  of  the  teachings 
of  Revelation,  respecting  the  2:)riinitive  character  of 
man,  and  his  original  righteousness.  And  all  evan- 
gelical creeds,  however  they  may  difter  from  each 
other  in  their  definitions  of  orio-inal  rio;hteonsness, 
and  their  estimate  of  the  perfections  and  powers 
granted  to  man  by  creation,  do  yet  agree  that  he 
stood  higher  when  he  came  from  the  hand  of  God 
than  he  now  stands ;  that  man's  actual  character 
and  conduct  do  not  come  up  to  man's  created  pow- 
er and  capacities.  Solemn  and  condemning  as  it  is, 
it  is  yet  a  fact,  that  inasmuch  as  every  man  was 
originally  made  in  the  holy  image  of  God,  he  ought, 
this  very  instant  to  be  perfectly  holy.  He  ought 
to  be  standing  upon  a  position  that  is  as  high  above 
his  actual  position,  as  the  heavens  are  high  above 
the  earth.  He  ought  to  be  possessed  of  a  moral 
perfection  without  spot  or  wrinkle,  or  any  such 
thing.  He  ought  to  be  as  he  was,  when  created 
in  righteousness  and  true  holiness.  He  ought  to 
be  dwelling  high  up  on  those  lofty  and  glori- 
ous heights  where  he  was  stationed  by  the  benevo- 
lent hand  of  his  Maker,  instead  of  wallowing 
in  those  low  depths  where  he  has  fallen  by  an  act 
of  apostasy  and  rebellion.  Nothing  short  of  this 
satisfies  the  obligations  that  are  resting  upon  him. 
An  imperfect  holiness,  such  as  the  .Christian  is  j^os- 
sessed  of  while  here  upon  earth,  does  not  come  up 
to  the  righteous  requirement  of  the  moral  law  ;  and 


SINFULNESS    OF    ORIGINAL    SIN.  271 

certainly  that  kind  of  moral  character  which  belongs 
to  the  natural  man  is  still  farther  off  from  the  sum- 
total  that  is  demanded. 

Let  us  press  this  truth,  that  we  may  feel  its  con- 
victing and  condemning  energy.  When  our  Maker 
speaks  to  us  upon  the  subject  of  His  claims  and  our 
obligations,  He  tells  us  that  when  we  came  forth 
from  nonentity  into  existence,  from  His  hand,  we 
were  Avell  endowed,  and  well  furnished.  He  tells 
us  distinctly,  that  He  did  not  create  us  the  depraved 
and  sinful  beins^s  that  we  now  are.  He  tells  us 
that  these  earthly  affections,  this  carnal  mind,  this 
enmity  towards  the  Divine  law,  this  disinclination 
to^val'ds  religion  and  spiritual  concerns,  this  ab- 
sorbing love  of  the  world  and  this  supreme  love  of 
self, — that  these  were  not  implanted  or  infused 
into  the  soul  by  our  wise,  holy,  and  good  Creator. 
This  is  not  His  work.  This  is  no  part  of  the  furni- 
ture with  which  mankind  were  set  uj)  for  an  ever- 
lasting existence.  "  God  saw  everything  that  he 
had  made,  and  behold  it  was  very  good  "  (Gen.  i. 
31).  We  acknowledge  the  mystery  that  overhangs 
the  union  and  connection  of  all  men  with  the  first 
man.  We  know  that  this  corruption  of  man's 
nature,  and  this  sinfulness  of  his  heart,  does  indeed 
appear  at  the  very  beginning  of  his  individual  life. 
He  is  conceived  in  sin,  and  shapen  in  inirpiity  (Ps. 
li.  5).  This  selfish  disposition,  and  this  alienation 
of  the  heart  from  God,  is  native  depravity,  is  in- 
horn  coiTuption.     This  we  know  both  from  Revela- 


273  SINFULNESS    OF    OEIGINAL    SIN. 

tion,  and  observation.  But  we  also  know,  from 
the  same  infallible  Revelation,  that  tliougli  man  is 
born  a  sinner  from  the  sinful  Adam,  he  was  created 
a  saint  in  the  holy  Adam.  By  origin  he  is  holy, 
and  by  descent  he  is  sinful ;  because  there  has 
intervened,  between  his  creation  and  his  birth,  that 
"  offence  of  one  man  whereby  all  men  were  made 
sinners"  (Rom.  v.  18,  19).  Though  we  cannot 
unravel  the  whole  mystery  of  this  subject,  yet  if 
we  accept  the  revealed  fact,  and  concede  that  God 
did  originally  make  man  in  His  own  image,  in 
riofhteousness  and  true  holiness,  and  that  man  has 
since  unmade  himself,  by  the  act  of  apostasy  and 
rebellion,^ — if  we  take  this  as  the  true  and  correct 
statement  of  the  facts  in  the  case,  then  we  can  see 
how  and  why  it  is,  that  God  has  claims  upon  His 
creature,  man,  that  extend  to  Avhat  this  creature 
originally  was  and  was  capable  of  becoming,  and 
not  merely  to  what  he  now  is,  and  is  able  to  per- 
form. 

When,  therefore,  the  young  ruler's  question, 
"  What  lack  I  ? "  is  asked  and  answered  upon  a 
broad  scale,  each  and  every  man  must  say :  "  I  lack 
original  righteousness;  I  lack  the  holiness  with 
which  God  created  man ;  I  lack  that  perfection  of 


'  The    Angustinian    doctrine,  fallen  and  vitiated  by  an  act  of 

tliat    the   entire   hnnian    species  self-will   has  been   procreated  t>r 

was  created  on  the  sixth  day.  ex-  individualized,  permits  the  theo- 

isted  as  a  «rt<i//'e  (not  as  iiidivid-  Ionian    to  say  that   all    men  are 

uals)  in  t!ie  first  human  pair,  act-  ecpially  concerned  in  the  origin  of 

eil  in  and  fell   with  them  in  the  sin.  and  to  cliarge  the  guilt  of  ita 

first    transgression,  and    as  thus  origin  upou  all  a,]ike. 


SINFULNESS    OF    ORIGINAL    SIN.  273 

cliaractei'  which  belonged  to  my  rational  and  im- 
mortal nature  coniino;  fresh  from  the  hand  of  God  in 
the  person  of  Adam ;  I  lack  all  that  I  should  now 
be  possessed  of,  had  that  nature  not  apostatized 
from  its  Maker  and  its  Sovereign."  And  when  God 
forms  His  estimate  of  man's  obligations ;  when  He 
la3^s  judgment  to  the  line,  and  righteousness  to  the 
plummet;  lie  goes  back  to  the  heginidng^  He  goes 
back  to  creation,  and  demands  from  His  rational 
and  immortal  creature  that  perfect  service  which 
he  was  capable  of  rendering  by  creation,  l)ut  which 
now  he  is  unable  to  render  because  of  subsequent 
apostasy.  For,  God  cannot  adjust  His  demands  to 
the  alterations  which  sinful  man  makes  in  himself. 
This  would  be  to  annihilate  all  demands  and  obli- 
gations. A  sliding-scale  would  be  introduced,  hj 
tliis  method,  that  would  reduce  human  duty  by 
degrees  to  a  minimum,  where  it  would  disappear. 
For,  the  more  sinful  a  creature  becomes,  the  less 
inclined,  and  consequently  the  less  able  does  he 
become  to  obey  the  law  of  God.  If,  now,  the  Eter- 
nal Judge  shapes  His  requisitions  in  accordance 
M'ith  the  shifting  character  of  His  creature,  and 
lowers  His  law  down  just  as  fast  as  the  sinner  en- 
slaves liimself  to  lust  and  sin,  it  is  plain  that  sooner 
or  later  all  moral  ol)lio;ation  will  run  out :  and 
whenever  the  creature  becomes  totally  enslaved  to 
self  and  flesh,  there  will  no  longer  be  any  claims 
resting  upon  him.  But  this  cannot  be  so.  "  For 
the  kingdom  of  heaven," — says  our  Lord, — "  is  as  a 


^ 


274  SINFULNESS  or  original  sin. 

man  travelling  into  a  far  country,  who  called  his 
own  servants  and  delivered  unto  them  his  goods. 
And  unto  one  he  gave  five  talents,  and  to  another 
tv>^o,  and  to  another  one  ;  and  straightway  took  his 
journey."  When  the  settlement  was  made,  each 
and  every  one  of  the  parties  was  righteously  sum- 
moned to  account  for  all  that  had  originally  been 
intrusted  to  him,  and  to  show  a  faithful  improve- 
ment of  the  same.  If  any  one  of  the  servants  had 
been  found  to  have  "  lacked  "  a  part,  or  the  Vj^hole, 
of  the  original  treasure,  because  he  had  culpably 
lost  it,  think  you  that  the  fact  that  it  was  now  gone 
from  his  possession,  and  was  past  recovery,  would 
have  been  accepted  as  a  valid  excuse  from  the 
original  obligations  imposed  upon  him?  In  like 
manner,  the  fact,  that  man  cannot  reinstate  himself 
in  his  original  condition  of  holiness  and  blessedness, 
from  which  he  has  fallen  by  apostasy,  will  not  suf- 
fice to  justify  him  before  God  for  being  in  a  help- 
less state  of  sin  and  misery,  or  to  give  him  any 
claims  upon  God  for  deliverance  from  it.  God  can 
and  diOta  pity  him,  in  his  ruined  and  lost  estate,  and 
if  the  creature  will  cast  himself  uj)on  His  mercy ^  ac- 
knowled2:in2;  the  rio-hteousness  of  the  entire  claims 
of  God  upon  him  for  a  sinless  perfection  and  a  per 
feet  service,  he  will  meet  and  find  merc}^  But  if 
he  takes  the  ground  that  he  does  not  owe  such  an 
immense  debt  as  this,  and  that  God  has  no  right  to 
demand  from  him,  in  his  apostate  and  helpless 
condition,  the    same   perfection   of    character   and 


'#> 


SINFCJLXESS    OF    ORIGINAL    SIIS".  275 

obedience  whicli  lioly  Adam  possessed  and  rendered, 
and  whicli  the  unfallen  angels  possess  and  render, 
God  will  leave  him  to  the  workings  of  conscience, 
and  the  operations  of  stark  unmitigated  law  and 
justice.  "  The  kingdom  of  heaven," — says  our  Lord, 
— "  is  likened  unto  a  certain  kins;  which  would 
take  account  of  his  servants.  And  when  he  had 
l)e2:un  to  reckon,  one  was  brouo-ht  unto  him  which 
owed  him  ten  thousand  talents;  but  forasmuch  as 
he  had  not  to  pay,  his  lord  commanded  him  to  l)e 
sold,  and  his  wife,  and  children,  and  all  that  he 
had,  and  payment  to  be  made.  The  servant  there- 
fore fell  down,  and  worshipped  him,  saying.  Lord, 
have  patience  with  me,  and  I  will  pay  thee  all. 
Then  the  lord  of  that  servant  was  moved  with  com- 
passion, and  loosed  him,  and  forgave  him  the  debt " 
(Matt,  xviii.  23-27).  But  suppose  that  that  ser- 
vant had  disputed  the  claim,  and  had  put  in  an 
appeal  to  justice  instead  of  an  appeal  to  mercy, 
upon  the  ground  that  inasmuch  as  he  had  lost  his 
property  and  had  nothing  to  pay  with,  therefore 
he  was  not  ol)ligated  to  pay,  think  you  that  the 
king  would  have  conceded  the  equity  of  the  claim  ? 
On  the  contrary,  he  would  have  entered  into  no 
argument  in  so  plain  a  case,  but  would  have  ''  de- 
livered him  to  the  tormentors,  till  he  should  pay 
all  that  was  due  unto  him."  So  likewise  shall  the 
heavenly  Father  do  also  unto  you,  and  to  eveiy 
man,  who  attempts  to  diminish  the  oi-iginal  claim 
of  God  to  a  perfect  obedience  and  service,  by  j)]cn(l- 


276  SINFULIS^ESS    OF    OEIGHsTAL    SITf. 

iiig  the  Ml  of  man,  the  corruption  of  human  nature, 
the  strength  of  sinful  inclination  and  affections,  and 
the  power  of  earthly  temptation.  All  these  are 
man's  work,  and  not  that  of  the  Creator.  This 
helplessness  and  bondage  grows  directly  out  of  the 
nature  of  sin.  "  Whosoever  committeth  sin  is  the 
slave  of  sin.  Know  ye  not,  that  to  whom  ye  yield 
yourselves  slaves  to  obey,  his  slaves  ye  are  to 
whom  ye  obey ;  whether  of  sin  unto  death,  or  of 
obedience  unto  righteousness  ? ''  (John  viii.  34 ; 
Rom.  Ti.  16). 

In  view  of  the  subject  as  thus  discussed,  we  in- 
vite attention  to  some  2:)ractical  conclusions  that  flow 
directly  out  of  it.  For,  though  we  have  been  speak- 
ing upon  one  of  the  most  difficult  themes  in  Chris- 
tian theology,  namely  man's  creation  in  holiness 
and  his  loss  of  holiness  by  tlie  a2')ostasy  in  Adam, 
yet  we  have  at  the  same  time  been  speaking  of  one 
of  the  most  humbling,  and  practically  profitable, 
doctrines  in  the  wliole  circle  of  revealed  truth.  We 
never  shall  arrive  at  any  profound  sense  of  sin, 
unless  we  know  and  feel  our  guilt  and  corruption 
by  nature ;  and  we  shall  never  arrive  at  any  pro- 
found sense  of  our  guilt  and  corruption  by  nature, 
unless  we  know  and  understand  the  orio-inal  rio-ht- 
eousness  and  innocence  in  which  we  were  first 
created.  We  can  measure  the  great  depth  of  the 
abyss  into  which  we  have  fallen,  only  by  look- 
ing up  to  those  great  heights  in  the  garden  of 
Eden,  upon  which  our  nature  once  stood  beautiful 


SINFULNESS    OF    ORIGINAL    SIN.  277 

and  glorious,  the  very  image  aucl  likeness  of  oui 
Creator. 

1,  We  remark  then,  in  the  first  place,  that  it  is 
the  duty  of  every  man  to  liuinhle  Iditiself  on  account 
of  Ills  lach  of  original  righteonsness,  and  to  rejjent 
of  it  as  sin  hefor^  God. 

One  of  the  articles  of  the  Presbyterian  Confession 
of  Faith  reads  thus :  "  Every  sin,  both  oi-iginal  and 
actual,  beinsr  a  transc^ression  of  the  rio^hteous  law 
of  God,  and  contrary  thereunto,  doth,  in  its  own 
nature,  bring  guilt  upon  the  sinner,  whereby  he  is 
bound  over  to  the  wrath  of  God,  and  curse  of  the 
law,  and  so  made  subject  to  death,  with  all  miseries 
spiritual,  temporal,  and  eternal."  ^  The  Creed  which 
we  accept  summons  us  to  I'epent  of  original  as  well  as 
actual  sin ;  and  it  defines  original  sin  to  be  "  the 
want  of  orisrinal  rio-hteousness,  too^ether  with  the 
corruption  of  the  whole  nature."  The  want  of  origi- 
nal righteousness,  then,  is  a  ground  of  condemnation, 
and  tlierefore  a  reason  for  shame,  and  godly  sorroiv. 
This  riglitoousness  is  something  which  man  once  had, 
ought  still  to  have,  but  now  lacks;  and  tlu  refore 
its  luck  is  ill-deserving,  for  the  very  .same  reason 
that  the  young  ruler's  lack  of  supreme  love  to  God 
was  ill-deserving. 

If  we  acknowledge  the  validity  of  the  distinction 
between  a  sin  of  omission  and  a  sin  of  commission, 
and  concede  that  each  alike  is  culpable,^  we  shall 

'  CoxFESsioN  OF  Faith,  VI.  vi. 
'One   of  t!ic  points  of  ditier-     position     of     each     was     taken, 
ence  between  tiio  Protestant  and     related  to   tlio  f^uilt   of    original 
the  Papist,  when  the    dogmatic     sin, — the   former   alilrmiug,  aud 


278  SINFULNESS    OF    ORIGINAL    SLN". 

find  no  difficulty  witli  tlils  demand  of  the  Creed. 
Why  should  not  you  and  I  mourn  over  the  total 
want  of  the  imao-e  of  God  in  our  hearts,  as  much 
as  over  any  other  form  and  species  of  sin  ?  This 
image  of  God  consists  in  hol}^  reverence.  When 
we  look  into  our  hearts,  and  find  no  holy  reverence 
there,  ous-ht  we  not  to  he  filled  with  shame  and 
sorrow  ?  This  imao^e  of  God  consists  in  filial  and 
supreme  affection  for  God,  such  as  the  young  ruler 
lacked ;  and  when  we  look  into  our  hearts,  and  find 
not  a  particle  of  supreme  love  to  God  in  them,  ought 
we  not  to  repent  of  this  original,  this  deep-seated, 
this  innate  depravity  ?  This  image  of  God,  again, 
which  was  lost  in  our  apostasy,  consisted  in  hum- 
ble constant  trust  in  God  ;  and  when  we  search  our 
souls,  and  perceive  that  there  is  nothing  of  this 
spirit  in  them,  but  on  the  contrary  a  strong  and 
overmastering  disposition  to  trust  in  ourselves,  and 
to  distrust  our  Maker,  ought  not  tins  discovery  to 
waken  in  us  the  very  same  feeling  that  Isaiah  gave 
expression  to,  when  he  said  that  the  whole  head  is 
sick,  and  the  whole  heart  is  faint ;  the  very  same 
feeling  that  David  gave  expression  to,  when  he 
cried :  "  Behold  I  was  shapen  in  iniquity,  and  in 
sin  did  my  mother  conceive  me  ?  " 

This  is  to  repent  of  original  sin,  and  there  is  no 
mystery  or  absurdity  about  it.  It  is  to  turn  the 
eye  inward,  and  see  what  is  lacking  in  our  heart 

the  latter  denying.     It  is  also  one     tween  Calvinism  and  Anniniaa 
of  the   points  of    difference   be-    ism. 


SINFULNESS    OF    OKIGINAL    SIN.  279 

and  affections;  and  not  merely  wliat  of  outward 
and  actual  transo-ressions  we  have  committed. 
Those  whose  idea  of  moral  excellence  is  like  that 
of  the  young  ruler ;  those  who  suppose  holiness 
to  consist  merely  in  the  outward  observance  of 
the  commandments  of  the  second  table ;  those 
who  do  not  look  into  the  depths  of  their  nature, 
and  contrast  the  total  corruption  that  is  there,  with 
the  perfect  and  positive  righteousness  that  ought 
to  be  there,  and  that  was  there  by  creation, — all 
such  will  find  the  call  of  the  Creed  to  repent  of 
original  sin  as  well  as  of  actual,  a  perplexity  and  an 
impossibility.  But  every  man  who  knows  that 
the  substance  of  piety  consists  in  positive  and  holy 
affections, — in  holy  reverence,  love  and  trust, — and 
who  discovers  that  these  are  wanting  in  him  by 
nature,  though  belonging  to  him  by  creation,  will 
mourn  in  deep  contrition  and  self-abasement  over 
that  act  of  apostasy  by  which  this  great  change  iu 
human  character,  this  great  lack  was  brought  about. 
2.  In  the  second  {)lace,  it  follows  from  the  sub- 
ject we  liave  discussed,  that  every  man  must,  by 
some  method,  recover  his  original  rigliteoiisness, 
or  he  ruined  forever.  "Without  holiness  no  man 
shall  see  the  Lord."  No  rational  creatui-e  is  fit  to 
appear  in  the  presence  of  his  Maker,  unless  he  is  as 
piu'e  and  perfect  as  he  was  originally  made.  Holy 
Adam  was  prepared  by  his  creation  in  the  image 
of  God,  to  hold  blessed  communion  with  God,  and 
if  he  and  his   posterity  had  never  lost   this  image, 


280  SINFULNESS    OF    ORIGINAL    SIN. 

they  would  forever  be  in  fellowship  with  their  Cre- 
ator and  Sovereign.  Holiness,  and  holiness  alone, 
enables  the  creature  to  stand  with  angelic  tranquil- 
lit)',  in  the  presence  of  Him  before  whom  the 
heavens  and  the  earth  flee  away.  The  loss  of 
original  righteousness,  therefore,  was  the  loss  of  the 
wedding  garment;  it  was  the  loss  of  the  only  robe 
in  which  the  creature  could  appear  at  the  banquet 
of  God.  Suppose  that  one  of  the  posterity  of  sin- 
ful Adam,  destitute  of  holy  love  reverence  and 
fciith,  lacking  positive  and  perfect  righteousness, 
should  be  introduced  into  the  seventh  heavens,  and 
there  behold  the  infinite  Jehovah.  Would  he  not 
feel,  with  a  misery  and  a  shame  that  could  not  be 
expressed,  that  he  was  naked  ?  that  he  was  utterly 
unfit  to  appear  in  such  a  Presence  ?  No  wonder 
that  our  first  pai'ents,  after  their  apostasy,  felt  that 
they  were  unclothed.  They  were  indeed  stripped 
of  their  character,  and  had  not  a  rag  of  righteous- 
ness to  cover  them.  No  wonder  that  they  hid  them- 
selves from  the  intolerable  purity  and  brightness 
of  the  Most  Higli.  Previously,  they  had  felt  no 
such  emotion.  They  were  ''  not  ashamed,"  we  are 
told. .  And  the  reason  lay  in  the  fact  that,  before 
their  apostasy,  they  were  precisely  as  they  were 
made.  They  were  endowed  with  the  image  of 
God ;  and  their  original  righteousness  and  perfect 
holiness  qualified  them  to  stand  before  their  Maker, 
and  to  hold  blessed  intercourse  with  Him.  But 
the  instant  they  lost  their  created  endowment  of 


SINFULNESS    OF   ORIGINAL   SIN.  281 

Loliness,  they  were  conscious  that  tliey  lacked  that 
indispensable  something  wherewith  to  appear  be- 
fore God. 

And  precisely  so  is  it,  with  their  posterity. 
Whatever  a  man's  theory  of  the  future  life  may 
be,  he  must  be  insane,  if  he  supposes  that  he  is  fit 
to  appear  before  God,  and  to  entei*  the  society  of 
heaven,  if  destitute  of  holiness,  and  wanting  the 
Divine  image.  When  the  spirit  of  man  returns  to 
God  \vho  gave  it,  it  must  return  as  good  as  it  came 
from  His  hands,  or  it  will  l>e  banished  from  the 
Divine  presence.  Every  human  soul,  when  it  goes 
back  to  its  Maker,  must  carry  with  it  a  righteous- 
ness, to  say  the  veiy  least,  equal  to  that  in  which 
it  was  originally  created,  or  it  will  be  cast  out  as 
an  unprofitable  and  wicked  servant.  All  the  tal- 
ents entrusted  must  be  returned ;  and  returned 
with  usury.  A  modern  philosopher  and  poet  repre- 
sents the  suicide  as  justifying  the  taking  of  his  own 
life,  upon  the  ground  that  he  was  not  asked  in  the 
beginning,  whether  he  wanted  life.  He  had  no 
choice  whether  he  would  come  into  existence  or 
not;  existence  was  forced  upon  him ,  and  therefore 
he  had  a  I'ight  to  put  an  end  to  it,  if  he  so  pleased. 
To  this,  the  reply  is  made,  that  he  ought  to  return 
his  powers  and  faculties  to  the  Creator  in  as  good 
condition  as  he  received  them  ;  that  he  had  no  right 
to  mutilate  and  spoil  them  by  abuse,  and  then  fling 
the  miserable  relics  of  what  was  originally  a  noble 
creation,  in  the  face  of  tlie  Creator.     In  answer  to 


282  SLNFULNESS    OF   OEIGmAL    SEN". 

the  suicide's  proposition  to  give  back  Bis  spirit  to 
God  who  gave  it,  the  poet  represents  God  as  say- 
ing to  him : 

'■  Is't  returned  as  'twas  sent  ?  Is't  no  worse  for  the  wear? 
Think  first  what  you  are!     Call  to  mind  what  you  werel 
I  gave  you  innocence,  I  gave  you  hope, 
Gave  iiealth,  and  genius,  and  an  ample  scope. 
Keturn  yon  me  guilt,  lethargy,  despair? 
Make  out  the  inventory  ;  inspect,  compare! 
Then  die, — if  die  you  dare!"  * 

Yes,  this  is  true  and  solemn  reasoning.  You 
and  I,  and  every  man,  must  by  some  method,  or 
other,  go  back  to  God  as  good  as  we  came  forth 
from  Him.  We  must  retrain  our  oriirinal  rio;ht- 
eousness ;  we  must  be  reinstated  in  our  primal  rela- 
tion to  God,  and  our  created  condition  ;  or  there  is 
nothing;  in  store  for  us,  but  the  blackness  of  dark- 
ness.  We  certainly  cannot  stand  in  the  judgment 
clothed  with  ori2:inal  sin,  instead  of  orio'inal  rig-ht- 
eousness ;  full  of  carnal  and  selfish  affections,  in- 
stead of  pure  and  heavenly  affections.  This  great 
lack,  this  great  vacuum,  in  our  character,  must  by 
some  method  be  filled  up  with  solid  and  everlast- 
ing excellencies,  or  the  same  finger  that  wrote,  in 
letters  of  fire,  upon  the  wall  of  the  Babylonian 
monarch,  the  awful  legend :  "  Thou  art  weighed 
in  the  balance,  and  art  found  wanting,"  will  write 
it  in  letters  of  fire  upon  our  own  rational  spirit. 

There  is  but  one  method,  by  which  man's  original 

>  CoLEKiDGB ;  Works,  VII.  295. 


SINFULNESS    OF   ORIGmAL    SIN.  2S'6 

righteousness  and  innocency  can  be  regained  ;  and 
this  method  you  well  know.  The  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ  si^rinkled  by  the  tL^ly  Ghost,  upon  your 
guilty  conscience,  reinstates  you  in  innocency. 
When  that  is  applied,  there  is  no  more  guilt  upon 
you,  than  tliere  was  upon  Adam  the  instant  he 
came  from  the  creative  hand.  "  There  is  no  con- 
demnation to  them  that  are  in  Christ  Jesus,"  Who 
is  he  that  condemneth,  when  it  is  Christ  that  died, 
and  God  that  justifies  ?  And  when  the  same  Holy 
Spirit  enters  your  soul  with  renewing  power,  and 
carries  forward  His  work  of  sanctification  to  its 
final  completion,  your  original  righteousness  returns 
again,  and  you  are  again  clothed  in  that  spotless 
I'obe  with  which  your  nature  was  invested,  on  that 
sixth  day  of  creation,  when  the  Lord  God  said, 
"Let  us  make  man  in  our  imaL>:e,  and  after  our 
likeness."  Ponder  these  truths,  and  what  is  yet 
more  imperative,  act  upon  them.  Remember  that 
you  must,  by  some  method,  become  a  perfect  crea- 
ture, in  order  to  V)ecome  a  blessed  creature  in 
heaven.  Without  holiness  you  cannot  see  the 
Lord.  You  must  recover  the  character  which  you 
have  lost,  and  the  peace  with  God  in  which  you 
were  created.  Your  spirit,  when  it  returns  to 
God,  must  by  some  method  be  made  equal  to  what 
it  was  when  it  came  forth  from  Him.  And  tl)€Te 
is  no  method,  ])ut  the  method  of  redemption  by 
the  blood  and  rij^hteousness  of  Christ.  Men  are 
runninc:   to    and   fro   after   other   methods.     The 


284  SINFULNESS    OF    OEIGIJSTAL    SIN. 

memories  of  a  golden  age,  a  better  humanity  than 
they  now  know  of,  haunt  them;  and  they  sigh  for 
the  elysium  that  is  gone.  One  sends  you  to  let- 
ters, and  culture,  for  your  redemption.  Another 
tells  you  that  morality,  or  philosophy,  will  lift 
you  again  to  those  paradisaical  heights  that  tower 
high  above  your  straining  vision.  But  miserable 
comforters  are  they  all.  No  golden  age  returns ; 
no  peace  with  God  or  self  is  the  result  of  such 
instrumentality.  The  conscience  is  still  perturl)ed, 
the  forebodings  still  overhang  the  soul  like  a  black 
cloud,  and  the  heart  is  as  throbbing  and  restless 
as  ever.  With  resoluteness,  then,  turn  away  from 
these  inadequate,  these  feeble  methods,  and  adopt 
the  method  of  God  Almighty.  Turn  away  with 
contempt  from  human  culture,  and  finite  forces,  as 
the  instrumentality  for  the  redemption  of  the  soul 
which  is  precious,  and  which  ceaseth  forever  if  it 
is  unredeemed.  Go  with  confidence,  and  courage, 
and  a  rational  faith,  to  God  Almighty,  to  God  the 
Kedeemer.  He  hath  power.  He  is  no  feeble  and 
finite  creature.  He  waves  a  mighty  weapon,  and 
sweats  great  drops  of  blood ;  travelling  in  the 
greatness  of  His  strength.  Hear  His  words  of 
calm  confidence  and  power:  "Come  unto  me,  all 
ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy-laden,  and  I  will  give 
you  rest." 


THE  APrROBATlON"  OF  GOODNESS  IS  NOT  THE  LOYE  OF  IT. 


Romans  ii.  21-23. — "Thou  therefore  which  teachest  another,  teachest  thou 
not  thyself?  thou  tliat  preachest  a  man  should  not  steal,  dost  thou  steal? 
thou  that  sayest  a  man  should  not  commit  adultery,  dost  thou  commi* 
adultery  ?  thou  that  abhorrest  idols,  dost  thou  commit  sacrilege  ?  thou 
that  uiakest  thy  boast  of  the  law,  through  breaking  the  law  diahonorest 
thou  God  ?  "  

The  apostle  Paul  is  a  very  keen  and  cogent  rea 
soner.  Like  a  powerful  logician  who  is  confident 
that  he  has  the  trutli  upon  his  side,  and  like  a  pure- 
minded  man  who  has  no  sinister  ends  to  gain,  he 
often  takes  his  stand  upon  the  same  ground  with 
his  opponent,  adopts  his  positions,  and  condemns 
him  out  of  his  own  mouth.  .  In  the  passage  from 
which  the  text  is  taken,  he  brings  the  Jew  in  guilty 
before  God,  by  employing  the  Jew's  own  claims 
and  statements.  "Behold  thou  art  called  a  Jew, 
andrestest  in  the  law,  and  makest  thy  boast  of  God, 
and  knowest  his  will,  and  approvest  the  things 
that  are  more  excellent,  and  art  confident  that  thou 
thyself  art  a  guide  of  the  blind,  a  light  of  them 
which  are  in  darkness,  an  instructor  of  the  foolish. 
Thou  therefore  which  teachest  another,  teachest  thou 
not  thyself?  thou  that  preachest  that  a  man  should 

13* 


286  THE   APPROBATION    OF    GOODNESS 

not  steal,  dost  thou  steal  ?  thou  that  makest  thy 
boast  of  the  law,  through  breaking  the  law  dishon- 
orest  thou  God  ?  "  As  if  he  had  said  :  "  You  claim 
to  be  one  of  God's  chosen  people,  to  possess  a  true 
knowledge  of  Him  and  His  law ;  why  do  you  not 
act  up  to  this  knowledge?  why  do  you  not  by  your 
cliaracter  and  conduct  prove  the  claim  to  be  a  valid 
one?" 

The  apostle  had  already  employed  this  same  spe- 
cies of  aro-ument  ag-ainst  the  Gentile  world.  In  the 
first  chapter  of  tliis  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  St.  Paul 
demonstrates  that  the  pagan  world  is  justly  con- 
demned by  God,  because,  they  too,  like  the  Jew, 
knew  more  than  they  practised.  He  affirms  that 
the  Greek  and  Roman  world,  like  the  Jewish  people, 
"when  they  knew  God,  glorified  him  not  as  God, 
neither  were  thankful ; "  that  as  "  they  did  not  like 
to  retain  God  in  their  knowledge,  God  gave  tliem 
over  to  a  reprobate  mind  ; "  and  that  "  knowing  the 
judgment  of  God,  that  they  which  commit  such 
things"  as  he  had  just  enumerated  in  that  awful 
catalogue  of  pagan  vices  "  are  worthy  of  death,  not 
only  do  tlie  same,  but  have  pleasure  in  them  that 
do  them."  The  apostle  does  not  for  an  instant  con- 
cede, that  the  Gentile  can  put  in  the  plea  that  he 
\vas  so  entirely  ignorant  of  the  character  and  law 
of   God,  that    he  oug^ht    to    be    excused  from  the 

7  O 

obligation  to  love  and  oi3ey  Him.  He  expressly 
affirms  that  where  there  is  absolutely  no  law,  and 
no  knowledge  of  law,  there  can  be  no  transgression ; 


IS    NOT   THE    LOVE    OF    IT.  2S7 

and  yet  affirms  tliat  in  tbe  day  of  judgment  every 
mouth  must  be  stopped,  and  the  wliole  world  must 
plead  guilty  before  God.  It  is  indeed  true,  that 
lie  teaches  that  there  is  a  difference  in  the  deo-rees 
of  knowledge  which  the  Jew  and  the  Gentile  re- 
spectively possess.  The  light  of  revealed  religion, 
in  respect  to  man's  duty  and  obligations,  is  far 
clearer  than  the  light  of  nature,  and  increases  the 
responsibilities  of  those  who  enjoy  it,  and  the  con- 
demnation of  those  who  abuse  it;  but  the  light  of 
nature  is  clear  and  true  as  far  as  it  goes,  and  is 
enough  to  condemn  every  soul  outside  of  the  pale 
of  Kevelation.  For,  in  the  day  of  judgment,  there 
will  not  be  a  simple  human  creature  who  can  look 
his  Judge  in  the  eye,  and  say :  "  I  acted  up  to  every 
particle  of  moral  light  that  I  enjoyed ;  I  never 
thou2:ht  a  thouij^ht,  felt  a  feelino-  or  did  a  deed,  for 
which  my  conscience  reproached  me." 

It  follows  from  this,  that  the  lano:ua<2;e  of  the 
apostle,  in  the  text,  may  be  applied  to  every  man. 
The  arojument  that  has  force  for  the  Jew  has  force 
for  the  Gentile.  "  Thou  that  teachest  anotliei*, 
teachest  thou  not  thyself?  thou  that  preachest  that 
a  man  should  not  steal,  dost  thou  steal? "  You  who 
know  the  character  and  claims  of  God,  and  are  able 
to  state  them  to  another,  why  do  you  not  revere 
and  obey  them  in  your  own  person  ?  You  who  ap- 
prove of  the  law  of  God  as  pure  and  perfect,  why  do 
you  not  conform  your  own  heart  and  conduct  to  it? 
You  who  perceive  the  excellence  of  piety  in  another, 


288       THE  APPSOBATION  OF  GOODNESS 

you  who  praise  and  admire  moral  excellence  in 
your  fellow-man,  wby  do  you  not  seek  after  it,  and 
toil  after  it  in  your  own  heart?  In  paying  this 
tribute  of  approbation  to  the  character  of  a  God 
whom  you  do  not  yourself  love  and  serve,  and  to  a 
piety  in  your  neighbor  which  you  do  not  yourself 
possess  and  cultivate,  are  you  not  writing  down 
your  own  condemnation  ?  How  can  you  stand  be- 
fore the  judgment-seat  of  God,  after  having  in  this 
manner  confessed  through  your  whole  life  upon 
earth  that  God  is  good,  and  His  law  is  perfect,  and 
;  ?t  through  that  whole  life  have  gone  counter  to 
your  own  confession,  neither  loving  that  God,  nor 
obeying  that  law?  "To  him  that  knoweth  to  do 
good  and  doeth  it  not,  to  him  it  is  sin."  (James 
iv.  17.) 

The  text  then,  together  with  the  chains  of  rea- 
soning that  are  connected  with  it,  leads  us  to  con- 
sider the  fict,  that  a  man  may  admire  and  j)raise 
moral  excellence  without  possessing  or  practising  it 
himself;  that  tlie  approbation  of  goodness  is  not  the 
same  as  the  love  of  it} 

I.  This  is  proved,  in  the  first  place,  from  the  tes- 
timony of  both  God  and  man.  The  assertions  and 
reasonings  of  the  apostle  Paul  have  already  been 
alluded  to,  and  there  are  many  other  passages  of 
Scripture  which  plainly  imply  that  men  may  ad- 

*  See,  npoa  this  whole  subject  tlie  profound  and  discriininating 

of    conscience    as    distinguished  views  of  Edwards  :  The  Nature 

from  will,  and  of  amiable  instincts  of  Virtue,  Chapters  v.  vi.  vii. 
as    distinguished   from   horuiess, 


IS    NOT   THE    LOVE    OF   IT.  i!89 

mire  and  approve  of  a  virtue  wliicli  tliey  do  not 
practise.  Indeed,  the  language  of  our  Lord  re- 
specting the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  may  be  api)lied 
to  disobedient  mankind  at  large :  "  Whatsoever 
they  bid  you  observe,  that  observe  and  do  ;  but  do 
ye  not  after  their  works :  for  they  say,  and  do  not." 
(Matt,  xxiii.  3.)  The  testimony  of  man  is  equally 
explicit.  That  is  a  very  remarkable  witness  which 
the  poet  Ovid  bears  to  this  truth.  "  I  see  the  right," 
— he  says, — "  and  approve  of  it,  but  I  follow  and 
practise  the  wrong."  This  is  the  testimony  of  a 
profligate  man  of  pleasure,  in  whom  the  light  of  na- 
ture had  been  greatly  dimmed  in  the  darkness  of 
sin  and  lust.  But  he  had  not  succeeded  in  annihi- 
lating his  conscience,  and  hence,  in  a  sober  hour,  he 
left  upon  record  his  own  damnation.  lie  expressly 
informed  the  whole  cultivated  classical  world,  who 
were  to  read  his  polished  numbers,  that  he  that  had 
tauirht  others  had  not  taucrht  himself;  that  he 
who  had  said  that  a  man  should  not  commit  adul- 
tery had  himself  committed  adultery  ;  that  an  edu- 
cated Roman  who  never  saw  the  volume  of  inspira- 
tion, and  never  heard  of  either  Moses  or  Christ, 
nevertheless  approved  of  and  praised  a  vii'tue  that 
he  never  put  in  practice.  And  whoever  will  turn 
to  the  pages  of  Horace,  a  kindred  spirit  to  Ovid 
both  in  respect  to  a  most  exquisite  taste  and  a  most 
relined  earthliness,  Avill  frequently  find  the  same 
confession  breaking  out.  Nay,  open  the  volumes 
of  Rousseau,  and   even  of  Voltaire,  and  read  their 


290       THE  APPROBATION  OF  GOODNESS 

panegyrics  of  virtue,  their  eulogies  of  goodness. 
What  are  these,  but  testimonies  that  they,  too,  saw 
the  right  and  did  the  wrong.  It  is  true,  that  the 
eulogy  is  merely  sentimentalism,  and  is  very  differ- 
ent from  the  sincere  and  noble  tribute  which  a 
good  man  renders  to  goodness.  Still,  it  is  valid 
testimony  to  the  truth  that  the  mere  approbation 
of  goodness  is  not  the  love  of  it.  It  is  true,  that 
these  panegyrics  of  virtue,  when  read  in  the  light 
of  Rousseau's  sensuality  and  Voltaire's  malignity, 
wear  a  dead  and  livid  hue,  like  objects  seen  in  the 
illumination  from  phosphorus  or  rotten  wood ;  yet, 
nevertheless,  they  are  visible  and  readable,  and  tes- 
tify as  distinctly  as  if  they  issued  from  elevated 
and  noble  natures,  that  the  teachings  of  man's  con- 
science are  not  obeyed  by  man's  heart, — that  a  man' 
may  praise  and  admire  virtue,  while;  he  loves  and 
practises  vice. 

II.  A  second  proof  that  the  approbation  of  good- 
ness is  not  the  love  of  it  is  found  in  the  fact,  that 
it  is  impossible  not  to  approve  of  goodness,  while  it  is 
possible  not  to  love  it.  The  structure  of  man's  con- 
science is  such,  that  he  can  commend  only  the 
right;  but  the  nature  of  his  will  is  such,  that  he  may 
be  conformed  to  the  rio-ht  or  the  wroco".  The  con- 
science  can  give  only  one  judgment ;  but  the  heart 
and  will  are  capable  of  two  kinds  of  affection,  and 
two  courses  of  action.  Every  rational  creature  is 
shut  up,  by  his  nioi'al  sense,  to  but  one  moral  con- 
viction.    He  must  approve  the  right  and  condemn 


IS    NOT   THE    LOVE    OF   IT.  291 

the  wrong.  He  cannot  approve  the  wrong  and  con 
deran  the  right ;  any  more  than  he  can  perceive  that 
two  and  two  make  five.  The  human  conscience  is 
a  rigid  and  stationary  faculty.  Its  voice  may  be 
stifled  or  drowned  for  a  time ;  but  it  can  never  be 
made  to  utter  two  discordant  voices.  It  is  for  this 
reason,  that  the  approbation  of  goodness  is  necessa- 
ry and  universal.  Wicked  men  and  wicked  angels 
must  testify  that  benevolence  is  right,  and  malevo- 
lence is  wrong ;  though  they  hate  tlie  former,  and 
love  the  latter. 

But  it  is  not  so  with  the  human  ivill.  This  is 
not  a  rigid  and  stationaiy  faculty.  It  is  capable 
of  turning  this  way,  and  that  way.  It  was  created 
holy,  and  it  turned  from  holiness  to  sin,  in  Adam's 
apostasy.  And  now,  under  the  operation  of  the 
Divine  Spirit,  it  turns  back  again,  it  converts  from 
sin  to  holiness.  The  will  of  man  is  thus  capable  of 
two  courses  of  action,  while  his  conscience  is  capa- 
ble of  only  one  judgment ;  and  hence  he  can  see 
and  approve  the  right,  yet  love  and  practise  the 
wrono;.  If  a  man's  conscience  chan2:ed  alono*  with 
his  heart  and  his  will,  so  that  when  he  began  to 
love  and  pi-actise  sin,  he  at  the  same  time  began  to 
approve  of  sin,  the  case  Avould  be  different.  If, 
when  Adam  apostatised  from  God,  his  conscience 
at  that  moment  beo-an  to  take  sides  with  his  sin,  in- 
stead  of  condemning  it,  then,  indeed,  neither  Ovid, 
nor  Horace,  nor  Rousseau,  nor  any  other  one  of 
Adam's  posterity,  would  have  been  able  to  say :  "  I 


292       THE  APPROBATION  OP  GOODNESS 

see  the  right  and  a])prove  of  it,  while  I  follow  the 
wrong."  But  it  was  not  so.  After  apostasy,  the 
conscience  of  x\dam  passed  the  Same  judgment  upon 
sin  that  it  did  before.  Adam  heard  its  terrible 
voice  speaking  in  concert  \vith  the  voice  of  God, 
and 'hid  himself.  He  never  succeeded  in  brino-ino; 
his  conscience  over  to  the  side  of  his  heart  and  will, 
and  neither  has  any  one  of  his  posterity.  It  is  im- 
possible to  do  this.  Satan  himself,  after  millen- 
niums of  sin,  still  finds  that  his  conscience,  that  the 
accusing  and  condemning  law  written  on  the  heart, 
is  too  strono;  for  him  to  alter,  too  rig:id  for  him  to 
bend.  The  utmost  that  either  he,  or  any  creature, 
can  do,  is  to  drown  its  verdict  for  a  time  in  other 
sounds,  only  to  hear  the  thunder-tones  again,  wax- 
ing longer  and  louder  like  the  trumpet  of  Sinai. 

Having  thus  briefly  shown  that  the  approbation 
of  goodness  is  not  the  love  of  it,  we  proceed  to 
draw  some  conclusions  from  the  truth. 

1.  In  the  first  i)]ace,  it  follows  from  this  subject, 
that  tlie  mere  ivorhings  of  conscience  are  no  proof 
of  JioUness.  When,  after  the  commission  of  a 
wrong  act,  the  soul  of  a  man  is  filled  with  self- 
reproach,  he  must  not  take  it  for  granted  that  this 
is  the  stirrino;  of  a  better  nature  within  him,  and 
is  indicative  of  some  remains  of  original  righteous- 
ness. This  reaction  of  conscience  against  his  diso- 
bedience of  law  is  as  necessary,  and  unavoidable, 
as  the  action  of  his  eyelids  under  the  blaze  of  noon, 
and  is  worthy  neither  of  praise  nor  blame,  so  far 


IS    NOT   THE    LOVE    OF   IT.  293 

as  lie  is  concerned.  It  does  not  imply  any  love  for 
holiness,  or  any  hatred  of  sin.  Nay,  it  may  exist 
without  any  sorrow  for  sin,  as  in  the  instance  of  the 
hardened  transgressor  who  writhes  under  its  awful 
power,  but  never  sheds  a  penitential  tear,  or  sends 
up  a  sigh  for  mercy.  Tlie  distinction  between  the 
human  conscience,  and  the  human  heart,  is  as  wide 
as  between  the  human  intellect,  and  the  human 
heai't.^  We  never  think  of  confounding  the  func- 
tions and  operations  of  the  understanding  with 
those  of  the  heart.  We  know  that  an  idea  or  a 
conception,  is  totally  different  from  an  emotion,  or 
a  feeling.  How  often  do  we  remark,  that  a  man 
may  have  an  intellectual  perception,  without  any 
correspondent  experience  or  feeling  in  his  heart. 
How  continually  does  the  preacher  urge  his  hearers 
to  bring  their  hearts  into  harmony  with  their  under- 
standings, so  that  their  intellectual  orthodoxy  n.'ay 
become  their  practical  piety. 

Now,  all  this  is  true  of  the  distinction  bet/«'een 
the  conscience  and  the  heart.  The  conscience  i3  an 
intellectual  faculty,  and  by  that  better  elder  phi- 
losophy which  comprehended  all  the  powers  of  the 
soul  under  the  two  general  divisions  of  understand- 
ing and  will,  would  be  placed  in  the  domain  of 
the  understanding.  Conscience  is  a  light^  as  we  so 
often  call  it.  It  is  not  a  life ;  it  is  not  a  source  of 
life.     No  man's  heart  and  will  can  be  renewed  or 


'  Coinpaiv,     oil     tliis    distiiic-     nnd   Essays,    p.    284  sq. 
tion,   the    Authur's     Discourses 


294       THE  APPEOBATIOK  OF  GOODNESS 

changed  by  liis  conscience.  Conscience  is  simp]y  a 
law.  Conscience  is  merely  legislative  ;  it  is  never 
executive.  It  simply  says  to  the  heart  and  will: 
"  Do  thus,  feel  thus,"  but  it  gives  no  assistance,  and 
imparts  no  inclination  to  obey  its  owu  command. 

Those,  therefore,  commit  a  grave  error  both  in 
philosophy  and  religion,  who  confound  the  con- 
science with  the  heart,  and  suppose  that  because 
there  is  in  every  man  self-reproach  and  remorse 
after  the  commission  of  sin,  therefore  there  is  the 
gei-m  of  holiness  within  him.  Holiness  is  love, 
the  positive  affection  of  the  heart.  It  is  a  matter 
of  the  heart  and  the  will.  But  this  remorse  is 
purely  an  affair  of  the  conscience,  and  the  heart 
has  no  connection  with  it.  Nay,  it  appears  in  its 
most  intense  form,  in  those  beino-s  whose  feelinc^s 
emotions  and  determinations  are  in  utmost  opposi- 
tion to  God  and  goodness.  The  purest  remorse  in 
tlie  universe  is  to  be  found  in  those  wretched  beings 
whose  emotional  and  active  powers,  whose  heart 
and  will,  are  in  the  most  bitter  hostility  to  truth 
and  righteousness.  How,  then,  can  the  mere  re- 
proaches and  remorse  of  conscience  be  regarded  as 
evidence  of  piety  ? 

2,  But,  we  may  go  a  step  further  than  this, 
though  in  the  same  general  direction,  and  remark, 
in  the  second  place,  that  elevated  moral  sentiments 
are  no  certain  proof  of  piety  toward  God  and  nian. 
These,  too,  like  remorse  of  conscience,  spring  out 
of  the  intellectual  structure,  and  may  exist  without 


IS    NOT   THE    LOVE   OF   IT.  295 

any  affectionate  love  of  God  in  the  heart.  There 
is  a  species  of  nobleness  and  beauty  in  moral  ex 
cellence  that  makes  an  involuntary  and  unavoidable 
impression.  When  the  Christian  martyr  seals  his 
devMjtion  to  God  and  truth  with  his  blood  ;  when 
a  meek  and  lowly  disciple  of  Christ  clothes  liis  life 
of  poverty,  and  self-denial,  with  a  daily  beauty 
greater  than  that  of  the  lilies  or  of  Solomon's 
array;  when  the  poor  widow  with  feeble  and 
trembling  steps  comes  up  to  the  treasury  of  the 
Lord,  and  casts  in  all  her  living ;  when  any  pure 
and  spiritual  act  is  pei-formed  out  of  solemn  and 
holy  love  of  God  and  man,  it  is  impossible  not  to 
be  filled  with  sentiments  of  admiration,  and  often- 
times with  an  enthusiastic  glow  of  soul.  We  see 
this  in  the  impression  which  the  character  of  Christ 
universally  makes.  There  are  multitudes  of  men, 
to  whom  that  wonderful  sinless  life  shines  aloft  like 
a  star.  But  they  do  not  imitate  it.  They  admire 
it,  Init  they  do  not  love  it.^  The  spiritual  purity 
and  peifection  of  the  Son  of  God  rays  out  a  beauty 
which  really  attracts  their  cultivated  minds,  and 
their  refined  taste ;  but  when  He  says  to  them . 
"  Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of  me,  for  I 
am  meek  and  lowly  of  heart ;  take  up  thy  cross 
daily  and  follow  me ;  "  they  turn  away  sorrowful, 
like  the  rich  young  man  in  the  Gospel, — sorrowful, 
because  their  sentiments  like  his  are  elevated,  and 

'     Tlie      reader      will      recall     Christ   by  Rousseau. 
Jio    celebrated    panegyric    upoa 


296  THE   APPEOBATION  OF    GOODNESS 

they  have  a  certain  awe  of  eternal  things,  and 
know  that  religion  is  the  highest  concern  ;  and  sor- 
rowful, because  their  hearts  and  wills  are  still 
earthly,  there  is  no  divine  love  in  their  souls,  self 
is  still  their  centre,  and  the  self-renunciation  that 
is  required  of  them  is  repulsiv'e.  Religion  is  sub- 
mission,— absolute  submission  to  God, — and  no 
amount  of  mere  admiration  of  reliction  can  be  a 
substitute  for  it. 

As  a  thouo-htful  observer  looks  abroad  over 
society,  he  sees  a  very  iutei-esting  class  wdio  are 
not  far  from  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  who,  neverthe- 
less, are  not  witliin  that  kingdom,  and  who,  there- 
fore, if  they  remain  where  they  are,  are  as  certainly 
lost  as  if  they  "were  at  an  infinite  distance  fi'om  the 
kingdom.  The  homely  proverb  applies  to  them : 
"  A  miss  is  as  good  as  a  mile."  They  are  those 
who  suppose  that  elevated  moral  sentiments,  an 
aesthetic  pleasure  in  noble  acts  or  noble  truths,  a 
glow  and  enthusiasm  of  the  soul  at  the  sight  or 
the  recital  of  examples  of  Christian  virtue  and 
Christian  grace,  a  disgust  at  the  gross  and  rej^jul- 
sive  forms  and  aspects  of  sin, — that  such  merely 
intellectual  and  aesthetic  experiences  as  these  are 
piety  itself.  All  these  may  be  in  the  soul,  without 
any  godly  sorrow  over  sin,  any  cordial  trust  in 
Christ's  blood,  any  self  abasement  before  God,  any 
daily  conflict  with  indwelling  corruption,  any  daily 
cross-bearino;  and  toil  for  Christ's  dear  sake.  These 
latter,    constitute    the    essence    of    the    Christian 


IS    XOT    THE    LOVE    OF   IT.  297 

experience,  and  without  tliera  tliat  whole  range 
of  elevated  sentiments  and  amial)le  qualities,  to 
■which  we  have  alluded,  only  ministers  to  the  con- 
demnation instead  of  the  salvation  of  the  soul. 
For,  the  question  of  the  text  comes  home  with 
solemn  force,  to  all  such  persons.  "  Thou  that 
makest  thy  boast  of  the  law^,  through  breaking 
of  the  law,  dishonorest  thou  God  ?  "  If  the  beauty 
of  virtue,  and  the  grandeur  of  truth,  and  the  sub- 
limity of  invisiljle  things,  have  been  able  to  make 
such  an  impression  upon  your  intellect,  and  your 
tastes, — upon  that  part  of  your  constitution  -which  is 
fixed  and  stationary,  wiiich  responds  organically  to 
such  objects,  and  Avhich  is  not  the  seat  of  moral 
character, — then  why  is  there  not  a  corresponding 
influence  and  impression  made  by  them  upon  your 
heart?  If  you  can  admire  and  praise  them  in 
this  style,  why  do  you  not  love  them  ?  Why  is 
it,  that  when  the  character  of  Christ  bows  your 
intellect,  it  does  not  bend  your  will,  and  sway 
your  affections  ?  Must  there  not  be  an  inveterate 
opposition  and  resistance  in  the  heart?  in  the 
heart  which  can  refuse  submission  to  such  hiixh 
claims,  when  so  distinctly  seen  ?  in  the  heart 
which  can  refuse  to  take  the  yoke,  and  learn  of  a 
Teacher  who  has  already  made  such  an  impression 
upon  the  conscience  and  the  understanding  ? 

The  human  heart  is,  as  the  prophet  affirms,  de8- 
pevatelij  ^vicked,  desperately  selfish.  And  perhaps 
its   self-love   is  never   more  plainly  seen,  than  in 


298       THE  APPEOBATIOX  OF  GOODNESS 

siicli  instances  as  those  of  that  moral  and  culti- 
vated young  man  mentioned  in  the  Gospel,  and 
that  class  in  modern  society  who  correspond  to 
him.  Nowhere  is  the  difference  between  the  ap- 
probation of  goodness,  and  the  love  of  it,  more 
apparent.  In  these  instances  the  approbation  is  of 
a  high  order.  It  is  refined  and  sublimated  by  cul- 
ture and  taste.  It  is  not  stained  by  the  tempta- 
tions of  low  life,  and  gross  sin.  If  there  ever  could 
be  a  case,  in  which  the  intellectual  approbation 
of  goodness  would  develop  and  pass  over  into  the 
affectionate  and  hearty  love  of  it,  we  should  expect 
to  find  it  here.  But  it  is  not  found.  The  young 
man  goes  away, — sorrowful  indeed, — but  he  goes 
away  from  the  Redeemer  of  the  world,  never  to 
return.  The  amiable,  the  educated,  the  refined, 
pass  on  from  year  to  year,  and,  so  far  as  the 
evangelic  sorrow,  and  the  evangelic  faith  are  con- 
cerned, like  the  dying  Beaufort  depart  to  judg- 
ment making  no  sign.  We  hear  their  praises  of 
Christian  men,  and  Christian  graces,  and  Christian 
actions  ;  we  enjoy  the  grand  and  swelling  senti- 
ments with  which,  perhaj)s,  they  enrich  the  com- 
mon literature  of  the  world ;  but  we  never  hear 
them  cry  :  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner ;  O 
Lamb  of  God,  that  takest  away  the  sin  of  the 
world,  grant  me  thy  peace  ;  Thou,  O  God,  art  the 
strength  of  my  heart,  and  my  portion  forever." 

3.  In  the  third  place,  it  follows  from  this  sub- 
ject, that  in  order  to  holiness  in  man  there  must 


IS    NOT   THE    LOVE    OF    IT.  29*.) 

be  a  change  in  liis  lieart  and  ivill.  If  onr  analysis 
is  correct,  no  possible  modification  of  eitlier  his  con- 
science, or  his  intellect'  would  produce  holiness. 
Holiness  is  an  affection  of  the  heart,  and  an  inclina- 
tion of  the  will.  It  is  the  love  and  j^ractice  of 
goodness,  and  not  the  mere  approbation  and  admi- 
ration of  it.  Now,  suppose  that  the  conscience 
shoidd  be  stimulated  to  the  utmost,  and  remorse 
should  be  produced  until  it  filled  the  soul  to  over- 
flowing, would  there  be  in  this  any  of  that  gentle 
and  blessed  aftection  for  God  and  o;oodness,  that 
heartfelt  love  of  them,  which  is  the  essence  of  reli- 
gion ?  Or,  suppose  that  the  intellect  merely  were 
impressed  by  the  truth,  and  very  clear  perceptions 
of  the  Christian  system  and  of  the  character  and 
claims  of  its  Author  were  imparted,  would  the 
result  be  any  different?  If  the  heart  and  will 
were  unaffected  ;  if  the  influences  and  impressions 
were  limited  merely  to  the  conscience  and  the 
understanding;  would  not  the  seat  of  the  difla 
culty  still  be  untouched  ?  The  command  is  not 
"  Give  me  thy  conscience,"  but,  "  Give  me  thy 
TieartP 

Hence,  that  regeneration  of  which  our  Lord 
speaks  in  his  discourse  with  Nicodemus  is  not  a 
radical  change  of  the  conscience,  but  of  the  ivill  and 
affections.  We  have  already  seen  that  the  con- 
science cannot  underiro  a  radical  chancre.  It  can 
never  be  made  to  approve  what  it  once  condemned, 
and  to  condemn  what  it  once  approved.     It  is  the 


300       THE  APPROBATION  OF  GOODNESS 

stationary  legislative  faculty,  and  is,  of  necessity, 
always  upon  the  side  of  law  and  of  God.  Hence, 
the  apostle  Paul  souglit  to  commend  tlie  truth 
which  he  preached,  to  every  man's  conscience,  know- 
ing that  every  man's  conscience  was  with  him.  The 
conscience,  therefore,  does  not  need  to  be  converted, 
that  is  to  say,  made  opposite  to  what  it  is.  It  is 
indeed  greatly  stimulated,  and  rendered  vastly 
more  energetic,  by  the  regeneration  of  the  heart; 
but  this  is  not  radically  to  alter  it.  This  is  to 
develop  and  educate  the  conscience ;  and  when 
holiness  is  implanted  in  the  will  and  affections,  by 
the  grace  of  the  Spirit,  we  find  that  both  the 
conscience  and  understanding  are  wonderfully 
unfolded  and  strengthened.  But  they  undergo 
no  revolution  or  conversion.  The  judgments  of 
the  conscience  are  the  same  after  regeneration, 
that  they  were  before;  only  more  positive  and 
emphatic.  The  convictions  of  the  understand- 
ing continue,  as  before,  to  be  upon  the  side  of 
truth  ;  only  they  are  more  clear  and  powerful. 

The  radical  change,  therefore,  must  be  wrought 
in  the  heart  and  will.  These  are  capable  of  revo- 
lutions and  radical  changes.  They  can  apostatise 
in  Adam,  and  be  regenerated  in  Christ.  They  are 
not  immoval)ly  fixed  and  settled,  by  their  constitu- 
tional structure,  in  only  one  way.  They  have  once 
turned  from  holiness  to  sin ;  and  now  they  must 
be  turned  back  again  from  sin  to  holiness.  They 
must  become  exactly  contrary  to  what  they  now 


IS    NOT   THE   LOVE   OF   IT.  301 

are.  The  heart  must  love  what  it  now  hates,  and 
must  hate  what  it  now  loves,  Tlie  will  must  incline 
to  what  it  now  disinclines,  and  disincline  to  what  it 
now  inclines.  But  this  is  a  radical  change,  a  total 
change,  an  entire  revolution.  If  any  man  be  in 
Chriist  Jesus,  he  is  a  new  creature,  in  his  will 
and  affections,  in  his  inclination  and  disposition. 
While,  therefore,  the  conscience  must  continue  to 
give  the  same  old  everlasting  testimony  as  before, 
and  never  reverse  its  judgments  in  the  least,  the  af- 
fections and  will,  the  pliant,  elastic,  plastic  part  of 
man,  the  seat  of  vitality,  of  emotion,  the  seat  of  char- 
acter, the  fountain  out  of  which  proceed  the  evil 
thou2:hts  or  the  o-ood  thouo-hts, — this  executive, 
emotive,  responsible  part  of  man,  must  be  reversed, 
converted,  radically  changed  into  its  own  contrary. 
So  long,  therefore,  as  this  change  remains  to  be 
effected  in  an  individual,  there  is  and  can  be  no 
JioUfiess  within  him, — none  of  that  holiness  without 
which  no  man  can  see  the  Lord.  There  may  be 
within  him  a  very  active  and  reproaching  con- 
science ;  there  may  be  intellectual  orthodoxy  and 
correctness  in  religious  convictions;  he  may  cherish 
elevated  moral  sentiments,  and  many  attractive 
qualities  springing  out  of  a  cultivated  taste  and  a 
jealous  self-respect  may  appear  in  his  character; 
but  unless  he  loves  God  and  man  out  of  a  pure 
lieart  fervently,  and  unless  his  will  is  entirely  and 
sweetly  submissive  to  the  Divine  will,  so  that  he 

can  say  :  "  Father  not  my  ^vill,  but  thine  be  done," 
u 


302       THE  APPKOBATION  OF  GOODNESS 

he  is  still  a  nataral  man.  He  is  still  destitute  of 
the  spiritual  mind,  and  to  liim  it  must  be  said  as 
it  was  to  Nicodemus :  "  Except  a  man  be  born 
again,  lie  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God."  The 
most  important  side  of  his  being  is  still  alienated 
from  God.  The  heart  with  its  affections;  the  will 
with  its  immense  energies, — the  entire  active  and 
emotive  portions  of  his  nature, — are  still  earthly, 
unsubmissive,  selfish,  and  sinful. 

4.  In  the  fourth,  and  last  place,  we  see  from  this 
subject  the  necessity  of  the  operation  of  the  Holy 
Spirit^  in  order  to  holiness  in  'man. 

There  is  no  part  of  man's  complex  being  which 
is  less  under  his  own  ccmtrol,  than  his  own  will, 
and  his  own  affections.  This  he  discovers,  as  soon 
as  he  attempts  to  convert  them  ;  as  soon  as  he  tries 
to  produce  a  radical  change  in  them.  Let  a  man 
wliose  will,  from  centre  to  circumference,  is  set  upon 
self  and  the  world,  attempt  to  reverse  it,  and  set  it 
with  the  same  strength  and  energy  upon  God  and 
heaven,  and  he  will  know  that  his  will  is  too  strong 
for  him,  and  that  he  cannot  overcome  himself.  Let 
a  man  whose  affections  cleave  like  those  of  Div^es 
to  earthly  good,  and  find  their  sole  enjoyment  in 
earthly  pleasures,  attempt  to  change  them  into  their 
own  contraries,  so  that  they  shall  cleave  to  God, 
and  take  a  real  delight  in  heavenly  things, — let  a 
carnal  man  try  to  revolutionize  himself  into  a  spir- 
itual man, — and  he  will  discover  that  the  affections 
and  feelings  of  his  heart   are   beyond  his  controh 


IS    NOT   THE    LOVE    OF    IT.  303 

And  the  reastm  of  tliis  is  plain.  Tlie  affections 
and  will  of  a  man  show  what  he  loves^  and  what 
be  is  inclined  to.  A  sinful  man  cannot,  therefore, 
overcome  his  sinful  love  and  inclination,  because 
he  cannot  malce  a  beginning.  The  instant  he 
attempts  to  love  God,  he  finds  his  love  of  him- 
self in  the  way.  This  new  love  for  a  new  object, 
which  he  proposes  to  oiiginate  within  himself, 
is  prevented  by  an  old  love,  which  already  has 
possession.  This  new  inclination  to  heaven  and 
Divine  things  is  precluded  by  an  old  inclination, 
very  strong  and  veiy  set,  to  earth  and  earthly  things. 
There  is  therefore  no  Hfarting-point^  in  this  affair  of 
self-conversion.  He  proposes,  and  he  tries,  to  think 
a  holy  thought,  but  there  is  a  sinful  thought  already 
in  the  mind.  He  attempts  to  start  out  a  Christian 
grace, — say  the  grace  of  humility, — Init  the  feeling 
of  })ri(le  already  stands  in  the  way,  and,  what  is 
more,  remains  in  the  way.  He  tries  to  generate 
that  supreme  love  of  God,  of  which  he  has  heard 
so  much,  but  the  supreme  love  of  himself  is  ahead 
of  him,  and  occupies  the  whole  ground.  In  short, 
he  is  baffled  at  every  point  in  this  attempt  radically 
to  change  his  own  henrt  and  Avill,  because  at  every 
point  this  heart  and  will  are  already  committed 
and  determined.  Go  down  as  low  as  he  pleases, 
he  finds  sin, — love  of  sin,  and  inclination  to  sin. 
He  never  reaches  a  ])oint  where  these  cease  ;  and 
therefore  never  reaches  a  point  where  he  can  begiu 
a  new  love,  and  a  new  inclination.     The  late  Mr. 


304  THE    APPROEATIOT^    OF    GtOODNESS 

Webster  was  once  engaged  in  a  law  case,  in  wliich 
he  liad  to  meet,  upon  the  opposing  side,  the  subtle 
and  strong;  understandins;  of  Jeremiah  Mason.  In 
one  of  his  conferences  with  his  associate  counsel,  a 
difficult  point  to  be  managed  came  to  view.  After 
some  discussion,  without  satisfactory  results,  respect- 
ing the  best  method  of  handling  the  difficulty,  one 
of  his  associates  suggested  that  the  point  might 
after  all,  escape  the  notice  of  the  opposing  counsel. 
To  this,  Mr.  AVebster  replied  :  "  Not  so ;  go  down 
as  deep  as  you  ^vill,  you  will  find  Jeremiah  Mason 
below  you."  Precisely  so  in  the  case  of  which  we 
are  sj^ealdng.  Go  down  as  low  as  you  please  into 
your  heart  and  will,  you  will  find  your  self  below 
you  ;  you  will  find  sin  not  only  lying  at  the  door, 
but  lying  in  the  way.  If  you  move  in  the  line  of 
your  feelings  and  aftections,  you  will  find  earthly 
feelings  and  affections  ever  below  you.  If  you 
move  in  the  line  of  your  choice  and  inclination,  you 
will  find  a  sinful  choice  and  inclination  ever  below 
you.  In  chasing  your  sin  through  the  avenues  of 
your  fallen  and  corrupt  soul,  you  are  chasing  your 
horizon  ;  in  trying  to  get  clear  of  it  by  your  own 
isolated  and  independent  strength,  you  are  attempt- 
ing (to  use  the  illustration  of  Goethe,  who  however 
employed  it  for  a  false  purpose)  to  jump  off  your 
own  shadow. 

This,  then,  is  the  reason  why  the  heart  and  will 
of  a  sinful  man  are  so  entirely  beyond  his  own 
control.     They  are  preoccupied  ^n^  predetermined^ 


IS    NOT   THE   LOVE    OF   IT.  305 

and  therefore  he  cannot  make  a  becrinnino;  in  the 
direction  of  holiness.  If  he  attempts  to  put  forth 
a  boly  determination,  he  finds  a  sinful  one  already 
made  and  making, — and  this  determination  is  Ids 
determination,  unforced,  responsible  and  guilty. 
If  he  tries  to  start  out  a  holy  emotion,  he  finds  a 
sinful  emotion  already  beating  and  rankling, — and 
this  emotion  is  his  emotion,  unforced,  responsible, 
and  guilty.  There  is  no  physical  necessity  resting 
upon  him.  Nothing  but  this  love  of  sin  and  incli- 
nation to  self  stands  in  the  way  of  a  supreme  love 
of  God  and  holiness ;  but  it  stands  in  the  ivay. 
Nothing  but  the  sinful  affection  of  the  heart  pre- 
vents a  man  from  exercising  a  holy  aft'ection ;  but 
it  prevents  him  effectually.  An  evil  tree  cannot 
bring  forth  good  fruit;  a  sinful  lov^e  and  inclina- 
tion cannot  convert  itself  into  a  holy  love  and  in- 
clination ;  Satan  cannot  cast  out  Satan. 

There  is  need  therefore  of  a  Divine  operation  to 
renew,  to  radically  change,  the  heart  and  will.  If 
they  cannot  i-enew  themselves,  they  must  be  re- 
newed ;  and  there  is  no  power  that  can  i;t^ach  them 
but  that  mysterious  energy  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
which  like  the  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  and 
we  hear  the  sound  thereof,  but  cannot  tell  Avhence 
it  cometh  or  whither  it  goeth.  The  condition  of 
the  human  heart  is  utterly  hopeless,  were  it  not 
for  the  promised  influences  of  the  Holy  Ghost  to 
regenerate  it. 

There   are   many  reflections   suggested    by  this 


306  THE    APPROBATIOlSr    OF    GOODIS^ESS 

subject ;  for  it  has  a  wide  reacL,  and  would  carry 
us  over  vast  theological  spaces,  should  we  attempt 
to  exhaust  it.  We  close  with  the  single  remark, 
that  it  should  be  man's  first  and  great  aim  to 
obtain  the  new  heart.  Let  him  seek  this  first  of  all, 
and  all  thino;s  else  will  be  added  unto  him.  It 
matters  not  how  active  your  conscience  may  be, 
how  clear  and  accurate  your  intellectual  convic- 
tions of  truth  may  be,  how  elevated  may  be  your 
moral  sentiments  and  your  admiration  of  virtue, 
if  you  are  destitute  of  an  evangelical  experience. 
Of  what  value  will  all  these  be  in  the  dav  of  iuds:- 
ment,  if  you  have  never  sorrowed  for  sin,  never 
appi'opriated  the  atonement  for  sin,  and  never  been 
inwardly  sanctified  ?  Our  Lord  says  to  every  man : 
"Either  make  the  tree  good,  and  its  fruit  good; 
or  else  make  the  tree  corruj^t,  and  its  fruit  corrupt." 
The  tree  itself  must  be  made  good.  The  heart  and. 
will  themselves  must  be  renewed.  These  are  the 
root  and  stock  into  which  everything  else  is  graft- 
ed ;  and  so  long  as  they  remain  in  their  apostate 
natural  condition,  the  man  is  sinful  and  lost,  do 
what  else  he  may.  It  is  indeed  true,  that  such  a 
change  as  this  is  beyond  your  power  to  accom- 
plish. With  man  it  is  impossible ;  but  with  God 
it  is  a  possibility,  and  a  reality.  It  has  actually 
been  wrought  in  thousands  of  wills,  as  stubborn  as 
yours ;  in  millions  of  hearts,  as  worldly  and  selfish 
as  yours.  We  commend  you,  therefore,  to  the 
Person  and  Work  of  tlie  Holy  Spirit.     We  remind 


IS    NOT   THE    LOVE    OF    IT.  307 

you,  that  He  is  able  to  renovate  and  sweetly  incline 
the  obstinate  will,  to  soften  and  spiritualize  the 
flinty  heart.  He  saitb  :  "  I  will  put  a  new  spirit 
within  you  ;  and  I  will  take  the  stony  heart  out  of 
your  flesh,  and  will  give  you  an  heart  of  flesh  ;  that 
ye  may  walk  in  my  statutes,  and  keep  mine  ordi- 
nances, and  do  them  ;  and  ye  shall  be  my  people, 
and  I  will  be  your  God."  Do  not  listen  to  these 
declarations  and  promises  of  God  supinely ;  but 
arise  and  earnestly  plead  them.  Take  words  upon 
your  lips,  and  go  before  God.  Say  unto  Him :  "  I 
am  the  clay,  be  tliou  the  potter.  Behold  thou  de- 
sirest  truth  in  the  inward  parts,  and  in  the  hidden 
parts  tliou  shalt  make  me  to  know  wisdom.  I 
will  run  in  the  way  of  thy  commandments,  when 
tliou  shalt  enlarge  m}''  heart.  Create  within  me  a 
clean  heart,  O  God,  and  renew  within  me  a  right 
spirit."  Seeh  for  the  new  heart.  Ask  for  the  new 
heart.  Knock  for  the  new  heart.  "  For,  if  ye, 
being  evil,  know  how  to  give  good  gifts  unto  your 
children,  how  much  more  shall  your  heavenly 
Father  give  the  Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him." 
And  in  giving  the  Holy  Spirit,  He  gives  the  new 
lieart,  with  all  that  is  included  in  it,  and  all  that 
issues  from  it. 


THE  USE  OF  FEAR  IN  RELIGION. 


Proverbs  ix.  10. — "The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom." 
Luke  xii.  4,  5. — "And  1  say  unto  yon,  my  friends,  Be  not  afraid  of  them 
that  kill  the  body,  and  after  that  have  no  more  that  they  can  do.  But  I 
will  forewarn  you  whom  j^e  sliall  fear:  Fear  him,  whicli  after  he  hath 
killed  hath  power  to  cast  into  hell;  yea,  I  say  unto  you,  Fear  him." 


The  place  whicli  the  feeling  of  fear  ought  to 
hold  in  the  religious  expei'ience  of  mankind  is 
variously  assigned.  Theories  of  religion  are  con- 
tinually passing  from  one  extreme  to  another, 
according  as  they  magnify  or  disparage  this  emo- 
tion. Some  theolo2:ical  schools  are  distinfruished 
for  their  severity,  and  others  for  their  sentiment- 
alism.  Some  doctrinal  systems  fail  to  grasp  the 
mercy  of  God  with  as  much  vigor  and  energy  as 
they  do  the  Divine  justice,  while  others  melt  down 
everything  that  is  scriptural  and  self-consistent,  and 
flow  along  vaguely  in  an  inundation  of  unprincipled 
emotions  and  sensibilities. 

The  same  fact  meets  us  in  the  experience  of  the 
individual.  We  either  fear  too  much,  or  too  little. 
Having  obtained  glimpses  of  the  Divine  compas- 
sion, how  prone  is  the  human  heart  to  become  indo- 
lent and  self  indulgent,  and  to  relax  something  of 


THE    USE    OF   FEAR    IN    RELIGION.  309 

tlifit  earnest  effort  with  whicli  it  liad  begun  to  pluck 
out  the  offending  riglit  eye.  Or,  having  felt  the 
power  of  the  Divine  anger ;  having  obtained  clear 
conceptions  of  the  intense  aversion  of  God  towards 
moral  evil ;  even  the  chikl  of  God  sometimes 
lives  under  a  cloud,  because  he  does  not  dare  to 
make  a  right  use  of  tins  needed  and  salutary  im- 
pression, and  pass  back  to  that  confiding  trust  in 
tlie  Divine  pity  which  is  his  privilege  and  his 
birth-light,  as  one  who  has  been  sprinkled  with 
atonins:  blood. 

It  is  plain,  from  the  texts  of  Scripture  placed  at 
the  head  of  this  discourse,  that  the  feeling  and 
principle  of  fear  is  a  legitimate  one.^  In  these  words 
of  God  himself,  we  are  taught  that  it  is  the  font 
and  origin  of  true  wisdom,  and  are  commanded 
to  be  inspired  by  it.     The  Old  Testament  enjoins 


'  Tlie  moral  and  heiiltliful  in-  literature    so    purifving    as    tlie 

fliRMife  of  tear  is  implied   in  the  Clreek     Drama.       And    yet,  the 

celebrated  passage  in  Aristotle's  pU-asiirable  emotions   are   rarely  , 

Poetics,  vvliatever   he    the   inter-  awakened   by  it.     Itigiiteunsne>s 

pretation.     He  speaksof  a  cdea/js-  and  justice  determine  tlie  move- 

iug   (^KaTifapan)   of   tiie    mind,    by  ment   of  the    plot,   and    conduct 

means   of  the   emotions   of   pity  to  the  catastro|)lje ;  and  tiie  per- 

aiid    terror  (ipojior)  awakened   i)y  sons  and  forms  that  mi)ve  across 

tragic    poetry.     Most    certainly,  the  stage  are,*uot  Venus  and  tlio 

there   is  no   portion    of  Classical  Graces  hut, 

"  ghostly  Shapes 

To  meet  at  noontide  ;  Death  the  Skeleton 
And  Time  the  Shadow." 

All    literature  that   tends  up-  jnirposcs    of   poetry   the    fear  it 

ward  contains  the  tragic  element;  awakens.    Lucretius  and  Voltaire 

and    all     literature    that     tends  would  disprove  the  existence  of 

•Jt)wnward  rejects  it.     ylvchylus  sudi  a   solemn   world,  and    tliey 

ind    Dante    assume    a    wurid    of  make    uo  use   of    such   au   emo- 

retribution,  and   employ   for   the  tion. 


310  THE    USE    OF   FEAR    IN    EELIGION. 

it,  and  the  New  Testament  repeats  and  emphasizes 
the  injunction  ;  so  that  the  total  and  united  testi- 
mony of  Kevelation  forbids  a  religion  that  is  desti- 
tute of  fear. 

The  New  Dispensation  is  sometimes  set  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  Old,  and  Christ  is  represented  as 
teaching  a  less  rigid  morality  than  that  of  Moses 
and  the  prophets.  But  the  mildness  of  Christ  is 
not  seen,  certainly,  in  the  ethical  and  preceptive 
part  of  His  religion.  The  Sermon  on  the  Mount 
is  a  more  searching  code  of  morals  than  the  ten 
commandments.  It  cuts  into  human  depravity 
with  a  more  keen  and  terrible  edge,  than  does  the 
law  proclaimed  amidst  thunderings  and  light- 
nings. Let  us  see  if  it  does  not.  The  Mosaic 
statute  simply  says  to  man  :  "  Thou  shalt  not  kill." 
But  the  re-enactment  of  this  statute,  by  incar- 
nate Deity,  is  accompanied  with  an  explanation 
and  an  emphasis  that  precludes  all  misapprehen- 
sion and  narrow  construction  of  the  oi'iginal  law, 
and  renders  it  a  two-edged  sword  that  pierces  to 
the  dividing  asunder  of  soul  and  spirit.  When 
the  Hebrew  legislator  says  to  me:  "Thou  slialt 
not  kill,"  it  is  possible  for  me,  with  my  propensity 
to  look  upon  the  outward  appearance,  and  to  re- 
gard the  external  act  alone,  to  deem  myself  inno- 
cent if  I  have  never  actually  murdered  a  fellow- 
being.  But  when  the  Lord  of  glory  tells  me  that 
"  whosoever  is  angry  with  his  brother "  is  in  dan- 
ger of  the  judgment,  my  mouth  is  stopped,  and  it 


THE    USE    OF    FEAR    IN    RELIGION.  311 

is  impossible  for  me  to  cherisL  a  conviction  of  per- 
sonal innocency,  in  respect  to  the  sixth  command- 
ment. And  the  same  is  true  of  the  seventh  com 
raaudment,  and  the  eighth  commandment,  and  of 
all  the  statutes  in  the  decalogue.  He  who  reads, 
and  pouders,  the  whole  Sermon,  on.  the  Mount,  is 
painfully  conscious  that  Christ  has  put  a  meaning 
into  the  Mosaic  law  that  rendei's  it  a  ftir  more  effec- 
tive instrument  of  mental  torture,  for  the  guilty, 
than  it  is  as  it  stands  in  the  Old  Testament.  The 
lio-htniuirs  are  concentrated.  The  bolts  are  hurled 
with  a  yet  more  sure  and  deadly  aim.  The  new 
meaning  is  a  perfectly  legitimate  and  logical  deduc- 
tion, and  in  this  sense  there  is  no  difference  be- 
tween the  Decalo2:ue  and  the  Sei-mon, — between  the 
othics  of  the  Old  and  the  ethics  of  the  Ncav  Testa- 
ment. But,  so  much  more  spiritual  is  the  applica- 
tion, and  so  much  more  searching  is  the  reach  of 
the  statute,  in  the  last  of  the  two  forms  of  its  state- 
ment, that  it  looks  almost  like  a  new  j)roclamation 
of  law. 

Our  Lord  did  not  intend,  or  pretend,  to  teach 
a  milder  ethics,  or  an  easier  virtue,  on  the  Mount 
of  Beatitudes,  than  that  which  He  had  taught 
fifteen  centuries  before  on  Mt.  Sinai.  He  indeed 
pronounces  a  blessing ;  and  so  did  Moses,  His  ser- 
vant, before  Him.  But  in  each  instance,  it  is  a 
blessing  upon  condition  of  obedience  ;  which,  in 
botli  instances,  involves  a  curse  upon  disobedience. 
He  who  is  meek  shall  be  blest ;  but  he  who  is  nut 


.^12  THE    USE    OF   EEAR    IN    KELIGION. 

shall  1)6  condemned.  He  who  is  pure  in  heart,  ho 
who  is  poor  in  spirit,  he  who  mourns  over  personal 
unworthiness,  he  who  hungers  and  thirsts  after 
a  righteousness  of  which  he  is  destitute,  he  who  is 
merciful,  he  who  is  the  peace-maker,  he  who  en- 
dures persecution  patiently,  and  he  who  loves  his 
enemies, — he  who  is  and  does  all  this  in  a  perfect 
manner,  without  a  single  slip  or  failure,  is  indeed 
blessed  with  the  beatitude  of  God.  But  where 
is  the  man  ?  What  sino;le  individual  in  all  the 
ages,  and  in  all  the  generations  since  Adam,  is 
entitled  to  the  great  blessing  of  these  beatitudes, 
and  not  deserving  of  the  dreadful  curse  which  they 
involve  ?  In  applying  such  a  high,  ethereal  test  to 
human  character,  the  Founder  of  Christianity  is  the 
severest  and  sternest  preacher  of  law  tliat  has  ever 
trod  upon  the  planet.  And  he  who  stops  with  the 
merely  ethical  and  preceptive  part  of  Christianity, 
and  rejects  its  forgiveness  through  atoning  blood, 
and  its  regeneration  by  an  indwelling  Spirit, — he 
who  does  not  unite  the  fifth  chapter  of  Matthew, 
with  the  fifth  chapter  of  Komans, — converts  the 
Lamb  of  God  into  the  Lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah. 
He  makes  use  of  everything  in  the  Christian  sys- 
tem that  condemns  man  to  everlasting  destruction, 
but  throws  away  the  very  and  the  only  part  of  it 
that  takes  off  the  burden  and  the  curse. 

It  is  not,  then,  a  correct  idea  of  Christ  that  we 
have,  when  we  look  upon  Him  as  unmixed  compla- 
cency and  unbalanced  compassion.     Iq  all  aspects, 


THE    USE    OF    FEAR    IN    RELIGION.  ol3 

He  was  a  complex  personage.  He  was  God,  and 
He  was  man.  As  God,  He  could  pronounce  a 
blessing;  and  He  could  pi-onounce  a  curse,  as  none 
but  God  can,  or  dare.  As  man,  He  was  perfect ; 
and  into  His  perfection  of  feeling  and  of  character 
there  entered  those  elements  that  fill  a  good  being 
with  peace,  and  an  evil  one  with  woe.  The  Son  of 
God  exhibits  goodness  and  severity  mingled  and 
blended  in  perfect  and  majestic  harmony ;  and  that 
man  lacks  sympathy  with  Jesus  Christ  who  cannot, 
while  feeling  the  purest  and  most  unselfish  indig- 
nation towards  the  sinner's  sin,  at  the  same  time 
give  up  his  own  individual  life,  if  need  be,  for  the 
sinner's  soul.  The  two  feelings  are  not  only  com- 
patible  in  the  same  person,  but  necessarily  belong 
to  a  perfect  being.  Our  Lord  breathed  out  a 
prayer  for  His  murderers  so  fervent,  and  so  fidl  of 
pathos,  that  it  will  continue  to  soften  and  melt  the 
flinty  human  heart,  to  the  end  of  time  ;  and  He  also 
poured  out  a  denunciation  of  woes  upon  the  Phari- 
sees (Matt,  xxiii.),  every  syllable  of  which  is  deu^e 
enough  with  the  wrath  of  God,  to  sink  the  deserv- 
ing ohjects  of  it  "  2:)lumb  down,  ten  thousand  fath- 
oms deep,  to  bottomless  perdition  in  adamantine 
chains  and  penal  fire."  The  utterances,  "Father 
forgive  them,  for  they  know  n(  t  what  they  do:  Ye 
ser})ents,  ye  generation  of  vipers  !  how  can  ye  es- 
cape the  damnation  of  hell?"  both  fell  tVoiii  the 
same  pure  and  gracious  lips. 

It  is  not  surprising,  therefore,  that  our  Lord  often 


314  THE    USE    OF   FEAE    IN    RELIGION. 

appeals  to  the  principle  of  fear.  He  makes  use  of 
it  iu  all  its  various  forms, — from  that  servile  terror 
which  is  produced  by  the  truth  when  the  soul  is 
just  waked  up  from  its  drowze  in  sin,  to  that  filial 
fear  which  Solomon  affirms  to  be  the  beginning  of 
wisdom. 

The  subject  thus  brought  before  our  minds,  by 
the  inspired  Word,  has  a  wide  application  to  all 
ag'^s  and  conditions  of  human  life,  and  all  varieties 
of  human  character.  We  desire  to  direct  attention 
to  the  use  and  value  of  religious  fear,  in  tlie  opening 
periods  of  human  life.  There  are  some  special  rea- 
sons why  youth  and  early  manhood  should  come 
under  the  influence  of  this  powerful  feeling.  "I 
write  unto  you  young  men," — says  St.  John, — "  be- 
cause ye  are  strong^  We  propose  to  urge  upon  th« 
young,  the  duty  of  cultivating  the  fear  of  God's  dis- 
pleasure, because  they  are  able  to  endure  the  emo- 
tion ;  because  youth  is  the  springtide  and  prime  of 
human  life,  and  capable  of  carrying  burdens,  and 
standing  up  under  influences  and  impressions,  that 
might  crush  a  feebler  period,  or  a  more  exhausted 
stage  of  the  human  soul. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  the  emotion  of  fear  ought  to 
enter  into  the  consciousness  of  the  young,  because 
youth  is  naturalhj  light-hearted.  ''  Childhood  and 
youth,"  saith  the  Preacher,  "are  vanity."  The 
opening  period  in  human  life  is  the  happiest  part 
of  it,  if  we  have  respect  merely  to  the  condition  and 
circumstances  in  which  the  human  being  is  placed. 


THE    USE    OF    FEAR    IN    RELIGIOJST.  315 

He  is  free  from  all  public  cares,  and  responsibilities. 
He  is  encircled  within  the  strong  arms  of  parents, 
and  protectors.  Even  if  he  tries,  he  cannot  feel  the 
pressure  of  those  toils  and  anxieties  which  will 
come  of  themselves,  when  he  has  passed  the  line 
that  separates  youth  from  manhood.  When  he 
liears  his  elders  discourse  of  the  weight,  and  the 
weariness,  of  this  working-day  world,  it  is  with 
incredulity  and  surprise.  The  world  is  bright  be- 
fore his  eye,  and  he  wonders  that  it  should  ever 
wear  any  other  aspect.  He  cannot  understand  how 
tlie  freshness,  and  vividness,  and  pomp  of  human 
life,  should  shift  into  its  soberer  and  sterner  forms ; 
and  he  will  not,  until  the 

"Shades  of  the  prison-house  begin  to  close 
Upon  the  growing  Boy."  ' 

Now  there  is  something,  in  this  happy  attitude 
of  things,  to  fill  the  heart  of  youth  with  gayety  and 
abandonment.  His  pulses  beat  strong  and  high. 
The  currents  of  his  soul  flow  like  the  mountain 
river.  His  mood  is  buoyant  and  jubilant,  and  he 
flings  himself  with  zest,  and  a  sense  of  vitality,  into 
the  joy  and  exhilaration  all  around  him.  But  such 
a  mood  as  this,  unbalanced  and  untempered  by  a 
loftier  one,  is  hazardous  to  the  etei-nal  interests  of 
the  soul.  Perpetuate  this  gay  festal  abandonment 
of  the  mind  ;  let  the  human  being,  through  the 
whole  of  his  earthly  course,  be  filled  with  the  sole 

'Wordsworth;  Intimations  of  Immortality. 


316  THE    USE    OF    FEAR    IN    EELIGIOlSr. 

sino;]e  consciousness  tliat  tJiis'isthe  beautiful  world  : 
and  will  be,  can  he,  live  as  a  stranger  and  a pilgiim 
in  it  ?  Perpetuate  that  vigorous  pulse,  and  that 
-  youthful  blood  which  *'  runs  tickling  up  and  down 
the  veins ;  "  drive  off,  and  preclude,  all  that  care  and 
responsibility  which  renders  human  life  so  earnest ; 
and  will  the  young  immortal  go  through  it,  with 
that  sacred  fear  and  trembling  with  which  he  is 
commanded  to  work  out  his  salvation  ? 

Yet,  this  buoyancy  and  light-heartedness  are  le- 
gitimate feelings.  They  spring  up,  like  wild-flowers, 
from  the  very  nature  of  man,  God  intends  that 
prismatic  hues  and  auroral  lights  shall  flood  our 
morning  sky.  He  must  be  filled  with  a  sour  and 
rancid  misanthropy,  who  cannot  bless  the  Creator 
that  there  is  one  part  of  man's  sinful  and  cursed  life 
which  reminds  of  the  time,  and  the  state,  when 
there  was  no  sin  and  no  curse.  There  is,  then,  to 
be  no  extermination  of  this  legitimate  experience. 
But  there  is  to  be  its  moderation  and  its  regulation. 

And  this  we  get,  by  the  introduction  of  the  feel- 
ing and  the  principle  of  religious  fear.  The  youth 
ought  to  seek  an  impression  from  things  unseen 
and  eternal.  God,  and  His  august  attributes ; 
Christ,  and  His  awful  Passion ;  heaven,  with  its 
sacred  scenes  and  joys  ;  hell,  with  its  just  woe  and 
wail, — all  these  should  come  in,  to  modify,  and 
temper,  the  jubilance  that  without  them  becomes 
the  riot  of  the  soul.  For  this,  we  apprehend,  is  the 
meaning  of  our  Lord,  when  He  says,  "  I  will  fore- 


THE    USE    OF    FEAR    IN    RELIGION.  317 

warn  you  whom  ye  shall  fear:  Fear  liim,  which 
after  he  hath  killed  hath  power  to  cast  into  hell; 
yea,  I  say  unto  you,  Fear  him."  It  is  not  so  much 
any  particular  species  of  fear  that  we  are  shut  up 
to,  by  these  words,  as  it  is  the  general  habit  and 
feeling.  The  fear  of  liell  is  indeed  specified, — and 
this  proves  that  such  a  fear  is  rational  and  proper 
in  its  own  place, — but  our  Lord  would  not  have  us 
stop  witli  this  single  and  isolated  form  of  the  feel- 
ing. He  recommends  a  solemn  temper.  He  com- 
mands a  being  who  stands  continually  upon  the 
brink  of  eternity  and  immensity,  to  be  aware  of  his 
position.  He  would  have  the  great  shadow  of  eter- 
nity thrown  in  upon  time.  He  desires  that  every 
man  should  realize,  in  those  very  moments  when 
the  sun  shines  thebrisrhtest  and  the  earth  looks  the 
fairest,  that  there  is  another  world  than  this,  for 
which  man  is  not  naturally  prepared,  and  for  which 
he  must  make  a  preparation.  And  what  He  enjoins 
upon  mankind  at  large,  He  specially  enjoins  upon 
youth.  They  need  to  be  sobered  more  than  others. 
The  ordinary  cares  of  this  life,  which  do  so  much 
towards  moderating  our  desires  and  aspirations, 
have  not  yet  pressed  upon  the  ardent  and  expec- 
tant soul,  and  therefore  it  needs,  more  than  others, 
to  fear  and  to  "  stand  in  awe." 

II.  Secondly,  youth  is  elastic,  and  readihj  recovers 
from  midue  depression.  The  skeptical  Lucretius 
tells  us  that  the  divinities  are  the  creatures  of  man's 
fears,  and  would  make  us  1)elieve  that  all  religion 


318  THE    USE    OF   FEAE   IN    RELIGION. 

lias  its  o-^ouncl  in  frio-ht.^  And  do  we  not  hear  this 
theory  repeated  by  the  modern  unV)eliever  ?  What 
means  this  appeal  to  a  universal,  and  an  unprinci- 
])led  good-nature  in  the  Supreme  Being,  and  this 
rejection  of  everything  in  Christianity  that  awakens 
misgivings  and  forebodings  within  the  sinful  human 
soul?  Why  this  opposition  to  the  doctrine  of  an 
aV)so]ute,  and  therefore  endless  punishment,  unless 
it  be  that  it  awakens  a  deep  and  permanent  dread 
in  the  .heart  of  guilty  man  ? 

Now,  we  are  not  of  that  number  who  believe 
that  thoughtless  and  lethargic  man  has  been  greatly 
damaged  by  his  moral  fears.  It  is  the  lack  of  a 
bold  and  distinct  impression  from  the  solemn  ob- 
jects of  another  world,  and  the  utter  absence  of 
fear,  that  is  ruining  man  from  generation  to  gener- 
ation. If  we  were  at  liberty,  and  had  the  power, 
to  induce  into  the  thousands  and  millions  of  our 
race  who  are  running  the  rounds  of  sin  and  vice, 
some  one  particular  emotion  that  should  be  medici- 
nal and  salutary  to  the  soul,  we  would  select  that 
veiy  one  which  our  Lord  had  in  view  when  He  said : 
"  I  will  forewarn  you  whom  ye  shall  fear  :  Fear  him, 
which  after  he  hath  killed  hath  powder  to  cast  into 
hell ;  yea,  I  say  unto  you.  Fear  him."  If  we  were 
at  liberty,  and  had  the  power,  we  would  instan- 
taneously stop  these  human  souls  that  are  cro\vding 
our  avenues,  intent  only  upon  pleasure  and  earth, 

'  Lucretius:  De  Eeruin  Natura,  III.  989  sq. ;  V.  1160  sq. 


THE    USE    OF    FEAR    IN    RELIGION.  319 

and  would  fill  them  with  the  emotions  of  the  day 
of  doom  ;  we  would  deluge  them  with  the  fear  of 
God,  that  they  might  flee  from  their  sins  and  the 
wrath  to  come. 

But  while  we  say  this,  we  also  concede  that  it  is 
possible  for  the  human  soul  to  be  injui-ed,  by  the 
undue  exei'cise  of  this  emotion.  The  bruised  reed 
njay  be  broken,  and  tlie  smoking  flax  may  be  quench- 
ed ;  and  hence  it  is  the  very  function  and  oflice- 
work  of  the  Blessed  Comforter,  to  prevent  this, 
God's  own  children  sometimes  pass  through  a 
horror  of  great  darkness,  like  that  which  enveloped 
Abraham ;  and  the  unregeuerate  mind  is  sometimes 
so  overboi-ne  by  its  fears  of  death,  judgment,  and 
eternity,  that  the  entire  experience  becomes  for  a 
time  morbid  and  confused.  Yet,  even  in  this  in- 
stance, the  excess  is  better  than  the  lack.  We  had 
better  travel  this  road  to  heaven,  than  none  at  all. 
It  is  better  to  enter  into  the  kini]jdom  of  God  with 
one  eye,  than  having  two  eyes  to  be  cast  into  hell- 
fiie.  When  the  saints  from  the  heavenly  heights 
hxdv  back  upon  their  severe  religious  experience 
here  on  earth, — upon  their  footprints  stained  with 
their  own  l)l()od, — they  count  it  a  small  matter 
that  they  entered  into  eternal  joy  through  much 
tiibulation.  And  if  we  couhl  but  for  one  instant 
take  their  position,  we  should  form  their  estimate ; 
we  should  not  shrink,  if  God  so  pleased,  from  pass- 
ing through  that  martyrdom  and  crucifixion  which 
has  been   undei'goue  by  so  many  of  thooe  gentle 


320  THE   USE    OE    FEAE    IIST    EELIGIOJST. 

spirits,  broken  spirits,  holy  spirits,  upon  whom  the 
burden  of  mystery  once  lay  like  night,  and  the  far 
heavier  burden  of  guilt  lay  like  hell. 

There  is  less  danger,  however,  that  the  feeling 
and  principle  of  fear  should  exert  an  excessive 
influence  upon  youth.  There  is  an  elasticity,  in  the 
earlier  periods  of  human  life,  that  prevents  long- 
continued  depression.  How  rare  it  is  to  see  a 
young  person  smitten  with  insanity.  It  is  not 
until  the  pressure  of  anxiety  has  been  long  contin- 
ued, and  the  impulsive  spring  of  the  soul  has  been 
destroyed,  that  reason  is  dethroned.  The  morning 
of  our  life  may,  therefore,  be  subjected  to  a  subdu- 
ing and  repressing  influence,  with  very  great  safety. 
It  is  well  to  bear  the  yoke  in  youth.  The  awe 
produced  by  a  vivid  impression  from  the  eternal 
world  may  enter  into  the  exuberant  and  gladsome 
experience  of  tlje  young,  with  very  little  danger  of 
actually  extinguishing  it,  and  rendering  life  perma- 
nently gloomy  and  unhappy. 

III.  Thirdly,  youtli  is  ejrjjosed  to  sudden  tempta 
tions,  and  surprisals  into  sin.  The  general  traits 
that  have  been  mentioned  as  belonging  to  the  early 
period  in  human  life  render  it  peculiarly  liable  to 
solicitations.  The  whole  beino;  of  a  healthful  hila- 
rious  youth,  who  feels  life  in  every  limb,  thrills  to 
temptation,  like  the  lyre  to  the  plectrum.  Body 
and  soul  are  alive  to  all  the  enticements  of  the 
world  of  sense ;  and  in  certain  critical  moments,  the 
entire  sensorium,  upon  the  aj^proach  of  bold  and 


THE    USE    OF   FEAR    1]^    EELIGIOjN".  321 

powerful  excitements,  flutters  and  trembles  like  an 
electrometer  in  a  thunder-storm.  All  passionate 
poetry  breathes  of  youth  and  spring.  Most  of  the 
catastrophes  of  the  nov^el  and  the  drama  turn  upon 
the  violent  action  of  some  temptation,  upon  the 
liiglily  excitable  nature  of  youth.  All  literature 
testifies  to  the  hazards  that  attend  the  morning 
of  our  existence ;  and  daily  experience  and  obser- 
vation, certainly,  corroborate  the  testimony.  It 
becomes  necessary,  therefore,  to  guard  the  human 
soul  acrainst  these  liabilities  which  attend  it  in  its 
forming  period.  And,  next  to  a  deep  and  all-absorb- 
ing love  of  God,  thei'e  is  nothing  so  well  adapted 
to  protect  against  sudden  surprisals,  as  a  profound 
and  definite  fear  of  God. 

It  is  a  great  mistake,  to  suppose  that  aj)ostate 
and  corrupt  beings  like  ourselves  can  pass  through 
all  the  temptations  of  this  life  unscathed,  while 
looking  solely  at  the  pleasant  aspects  of  the  Divine 
Beino",  and  the  winnino;  forms  of  relio;;ious  truth. 
We  are  not  yet  seraphs ;  and  we  cannot  always 
trust  to  our  affectionateness,  to  carry  us  through  a 
violent  attack  of  temptation.  There  are  moments 
in  the  experience  of  the  Christian  himself,  when  he 
is  compelled  to  call  in  the  fear  of  God  to  his  aid, 
and  to  steady  his  infirm  and  wavering  virtue  by 
the  recollection  that  "  the  wa2:es  of  sin  is  death." 
*'  By  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  men," — and  Christian  men 
too, — "  depart  from  evil."  It  will  not  always  be  so. 
When   that  which  is  perfect  is  come,  perfect  love 

21 


322  THE    USE    OF   FEAK    1^    KELIGIOJST. 

sliall  cast  out  fear';  but,  until  the  disciple  of 
Christ  reaches  heaven,  his  religious  experience  must 
be  a  somewhat  complex  one.  A  reasonable  and 
well-defined  apprehensiveness  must  mix  with  his 
affectiouateness,  and  deter  him  from  transgression, 
in  those  severe  passages  in  his  history  when  lov^e 
is  languid  and  fails  to  draw  him.  Says  an  old 
English  divine:  "The  fear  of  Grod's  judgments,  or 
of  the  threatenings  of  God,  is  of  much  efficiency, 
when  some  present  temptation  presseth  upon  us. 
When  conscience  and  the  affections  are  divided ; 
when  conscience  doth  withdraw  a  man  from  sin, 
and  when  his  carnal  affections  draw  him  forth  to 
it ;  then  should  the  fear  of  God  come  in.  It  is  a 
holy  design  for  a  Christian,  to  counterbalance  the 
pleasures  of  sin  wnth  the  terrors  of  it,  and  thus  to 
cure  the  poison  of  the  viper  by  the  flesh  of  the 
viper.  Thus  that  admirable  saint  and  martyr, 
Bishop  Hooper,  when  he  came  to  die,  one  en- 
deavored to  dehort  him  from  death  by  this :  O  sir, 
consider  that  life  is  sweet  and  death  is  bitter; 
presently  he  replied,  Life  to  come  is  more  sweet, 
and  death  to  come  is  more  bitter,  and  so  went  to 
the  stake  and  patiently  endured  the  fire.  Thus, 
as  a  Christian  may  sometimes  outweigh  the  pleas- 
ures of  sin  by  the  consideration  of  the  reward  of 
God,  so,  sometimes,  he  may  quench  the  pleasures 
of  sin  by  the  consideration  of  the  terrors  of  God."  * 

*  Bates  :  Discourse  of  the  Fear  of  God. 


TIIE    USE    OF   FEAR    IN    RELIGION.  323 

But  much  more  is  all  this  true,  in  the  instance 
of  the  hot-blooded  youth.  How  shall  he  resist 
temptation,  unless  he  has  some  fear  of  God  before 
his  eyes  ?  There  are  moments  in  the  expei'ience  of 
the  young,  when  all  power  of  resistance  seems  to 
be  taken  away,  by  the  very  witchery  and  blantlish- 
ment  of  the  object.  He  has  no  heart,  and  no  nerve, 
to  resist  the  beautiful  siren.  And  it  is  precisely  in 
these  emergencies  in  his  experience, — in  these  nu> 
ments  when  this  world  comes  up  before  him  clothed 
in  pomp  and  gold,  and  the  other  world  is  so  en- 
tirely lost  sight  of,  that  it  throws  in  upon  him 
none  of  its  solemn  shadows  and  warninsrs, — it  is 
precisely  now,  when  he  is  just  upon  the  point  of 
yielding  to  the  mighty  yet  fiscinating  pressure, 
that  he  needs  to  feel  an  impression,  bold  and  start- 
ling, from  the  wrath  of  God.  Nothing  but  the 
most  active  remedies  will  have  any  efl'ect,  in  this 
tumult  and  uproar  of  the  soul.  When  the  wdiole 
system  is  at  fever-heat,  and  the  voice  of  reason  and 
conscience  is  drowned  in  the  clamors  of  sense  and 
earth,  nothing  can  startle  and  stop  but  the  trumpet 
of  Sinai.^ 

It  is  in  these  severe  experiences,  "which  are  more 


'  "Praise  ho  to  Thee,  plorv  to  hack  from  a  yet  deeper  pnlf  of 

Tlice,  O  Foiintuin  of  iiieicies:  I  carnal  i)lt.':isni-es.  but  the  fear  of 

was  ht'conrmir  more  iiiiseralil'j  and  (hath,  and  of  Thij  jiuhjnicnt    to 

Tli-.)ii  hecoiiiiiig  nearer,  Tliy  right  come;  wliicli,  ainivl  all  my  elinii- 

h:iii(l   was    continually    ready   to  ges,     never   departed     from     my 

pluck  me  out  of  the  mire,  and  to  breast."      An(u;sTiNE:     Confes- 

WMsli  lue  thoroughly,  and  I  knew  sions,    vi.    10.,   (Sliedd's  Ed.,    p. 

it  nut;  nor  did  aaytliing  call  me  142.) 


324       THE  USE  OF  EEAK  IN  EELIGION. 

common  to  youtli  than  they  are  to  manhood,  that 
we  see  the  great  value  of  the  feeling  and  principle 
of  feai".  It  is,  comparatively,  in  vain  for  a  youth 
under  the  influence  of  strong  temptations, — and 
particularly  when  the  surprise  is  sprung  upon  him, 
— to  ply  himself  v/ith  arguments  drawn  from  the 
beauty  of  virtue,  and  the  excellence  of  piety.  They 
are  too  ethereal  for  him,  in  his  present  mood.  Such 
arguments  are  for  a  calmer  moment,  and  a  more  dis- 
passionate hour.  His  blood  is  now  boiling,  and 
those  hio-her  motives  which  would  influence  the 
saint,  and  would  have  some  influence  with  him,  if 
he  were  not  in  this  critical  condition,  have  little 
power  to  deter  him  from  sin.  Let  him  therefore 
pass  by  the  love  of  God,  and  betake  himself  to  the 
anger  of  God,  for  safety.  Let  him  say  to  himself, 
in  this  moment  when  the  forces  of  Satan,  in  alli- 
ance with  the  propensities  of  his  own  nature,  are 
making  an  onset, — when  all  other  considerations  are 
being  swept  away  in  the  rush  and  whirlwind  of 
his  passions, — let  him  coolly  bethink  himself  and 
say  :  "  If  I  do  this  abominable  thing  which  the  soul 
of  God  hates,  then  God,  the  Holy  and  Immaculate, 
will  burn  my  spotted  soul  in  His  pure  eternal 
flame."  For,  there  is  great  power,  in  what  the  Scrip- 
tures term  "  the  terror  of  the  Lord,"  to  destroy  the 
edge  of  temptation.  "  A  wise  man  feareth  and  de- 
parteth  from  evil."  Fear  kills  out  the  delight  in  sin. 
Damocles  cannot  eat  the  banquet  with  any  pleas- 
ure, so  long  as  the  naked  sword  hangs  l)y  a  single 


THE    USE    OF   FEAR    IN^    RELIGIOl?'.  325 

hair  over  his  head.  No  oue  can  find  much  enjoy- 
ment in  transgression,  if  his  conscience  is  feeling  the 
action  of  God's  holiness  within  it.  And  well  would 
it  l)e,  if,  in  every  instance  in  which  a  youth  is 
tempted  to  fling  himself  into  the  current  of  sin  that 
is  flowing  all  around  him,  his  moral  sense  might  at 
tliat  very  moment  be  filled  with  some  of  that  ter- 
ror, and  some  of  that  horror,  which  breaks  upon  the 
damned  in  eternity.  Well  would  it  be,  if  the  youth 
in  the  moment  of  violent  temptation  could  lay 
upon  the  emotion  or  the  lust  that  entices  him,  a 
distinct  and  red  coal  of  hell-fire/  No  injury  would 
result  from  the  most  terrible  fear  of  God,  provided 
it  could  always  fall  upon  the  human  soul  in  those 
moments  of  strong  temptation,  and  of  surprisals, 
when  all  other  motives  fail  to  influence,  and  the  hu- 
man will  is  carried  headlong  by  the  human  passions. 
There  may  be  a  fear  and  a  terror  that  does  harm,  but 
man  need  be  under  no  concern  lest  he  experience 
too  much  of  this  feelino;,  in  his  hours  of  weakness 
and  irresolution,  in  his  youthful  days  of  temptation 
and  of  dalliance.  Let  him  rather  bless  God  that 
there  is  such  an  intense  light,  and  such  a  pure  fire, 
in  the  Divine  Essence,  and  seek  to  have  his  whole 
vitiated  and  poisoned  nature  penetrated  and  puri- 

'  "  Si  te  luxnria  tcnt.it,  objice  pone   tibi  l)ornbilos  poenas  go- 

tibi  inemoriain  mortis  tiiae,  jn-o-  liennae.     Meinoria  anloris  gelien- 

ponetibi  t'litiinuii  jiidic'uim,  redtic  nae  extinguat  in  te  ardorem  lux- 

a.l    nic-moriatn   I'litiira  tonnunta,  uriae." 

pmpoiie  tibi  aetornasuppiicia;  et  JJernaed:  De  Mode  Bene  Vi- 

etiam    projioiie  ante  ocuios  tuos  vendi.    Sermo  Ixvii 
perpetuus  ignes  intcrnoruin  ;  pro- 
16 


326  ^  THE   USE    OF   FEAR    IN    RELIGION. 

fied  by  it.  Have  you  never  looked  witli  a  steadfast 
gaze  into  a  grate  of  burning  anthracite,  and  noticed 
the  quiet  intense  glow  of  the  heat,  and  how  silently 
the  fire  throbs  and  pulsates  through  the  fuel,  burn- 
ing up  eveiy thing  that  is  inflauimable,  and  making 
the  whole  mass  as  pure,  and  clean,  and  clear,  as 
the  element  of  fire  itself?  Such  is  the  effect  of 
a  contact  of  God's  wrath  with  man's  sin ;  of  the 
penetration  of  man's  corruption  by  the  wrath  of 
the  Lord. 

IV.  In  the  fourth  place,  the  feeling  and  principle 
of  fear  ought  to  enter  into  the  experience  of  both 
youth  and  manhood,  because  it  relieves  from  all 
other  fear.  He  who  stands  in  av^e  of  God  can  look 
down,  from  a  very  great  height,  upon  all  other  per- 
turbation. When  we  have  seen  Him  from  whose 
sight  the  heavens  and  the  earth  flee  away,  theie  is 
nothing,  in  either  the  heavens  or  the  earth,  that  can 
produce  a  single  ripple  upon  the  surface  of  our  souls. 
This  is  true,  even  of  the  unregenerate  mind.  The  fear 
in  this  instance  is  a  servile  one, — it  is  not  filial  and 
affectionate, — and  yet  it  serves  to  protect  the  sub- 
ject of'it  from  all  other  feelings  of  this  species,  be- 
cause it  is  gi-eater  than  all  others,  and  like  Aaron's 
serpent  swallows  up  the  rest.  If  we  must  be  liable 
to  fears, — and  the  transgressor  always  must  be, — it 
is  best  that  they  should  all  be  concenti'ated  in  one 
single  overmastering  sentiment.  Unity  is  ever  de- 
sirable; and  even  if  the  human  soul  were  to  be  vis- 
ited by  none  but  the  servile  forms  of  fear,  it  would 


THE    USE    OF   FEAR   m    RELIGION  327 

"be  better  that  tliis  should  he  the  "terror  of  the 
Lnrtl."  If,  })y  having  the  fear  of  God  before  our 
eyes,  we  couhl  thereby  l)e  debvered  from  the  fear 
of  man,  and  all  those  apprehensions  which  are  con- 
nected with  time  and  sense,  would  it  not  l)e  wisdom 
to  choose  it  ?  We  should  then  know  that  there  was 
but  one  quarter  from  which  our  peace  could  be  as- 
sailed. This  would  lead  us  to  look  in  that  (Hrec- 
tion  ;  and,  here  upon  earth,  sinful  man  cannot  look 
at  God  long,  without  coming  to  terms  and  becoming 
reconciled  with  Him. 

V.  The  fifth  and  last  reason  which  we  assie^n  for 
cherishing  the  feeling  and  principle  of  fear  applies 
to  youth,  to  manhood,  and  to  old  age,  alike  :  The 
fear  of  God  conducts  to  the  love  of  God.  Our  Lord 
does  not  conunand  us  to  fear  ''  Him,  who  after  he 
hath  kiUed  hath  power  to  cast  into  hell,"  because 
such  a  feeling  as  this  is  intrinsically  desirable,  and 
is  an  ultimate  end  in  itself  It  is,  in  itself,  undesir* 
able,  and  it  is  only  a  means  to  an  end.  By  it,  our 
torpid  souls  are  to  be  awakened  from  their  torpor ; 
our  numbness  and  hardness  of  mind,  in  respect  to 
spiritual  objects,  is  to  be  removed.  We  are  never 
for  a  moment,  to  si^ppose  that  the  fear  of  perdition 
is  set  before  us  as  .'i  model  and  permanent  form  ot 
e.xperience  to  be  toiled  after, — a  positive  virtue  and 
gi'ace  intended  to  be  perpetuated  through  the  whole 
future  history  of  the  soul.  It  is  employed  only  as 
an  antecedent  to  a  higher  and  a  hap})ier  emotion; 
and  when  the  purpose  for  which  it  has  been  elicited 


328       THE  USE  OF  FEAK  IN  EELIGION. 

has  been  answered,  it  then  disappears.  "Perfect 
love  casteth  out  fear ;  for  fear  hath  torment," 
(1  John  iv.  is;  ) 

But,  at  the  same  time,  we  desire  to  direct  atten- 
tion to  the  fact  that  he  who  has  been  exercised 
with  this  emotion,  thoroughly  and  deeply,  is  con- 
ducted by  it  into  the  higher  and  happier  form  of 
religious  experience.  Religious  fear  and  anxiety 
are  the  prelude  to  religious  peace  and  joy.  These 
are  the  discords  that  prepare  for  the  concords.  He, 
who  in  the  Psalmist's  phrase  has  known  the  power 
of  the  Divine  anger,  is  visited  with  the  manifesta- 
tion of  the  Divine  love.  The  method  in  the  thirty 
second  psahn  is  the  method  of  salvation.  Day  and 
night  God's  hand  is  heavy  upon  the  soul ;  the  fear 
and  sense  of  the  Divine  displeasure  is  passing  through 
the  conscience,  like  electric  currents.  The  moisture, 
the  sweet  dew  of  health  and  happiness,  is  turned 
into  the  drought  of  summer,  by  this  preparatory 
process.  Then  the  soul  acknowledges  its  sin,  and 
its  iniquity  it  hides  no  longer.  It  confesses  its  trans- 
gressions unto  the  Lord, — it  justifies  and  approves 
of  this  wrath  which  it  has  feltj — and  He  forgives  the 
iniquity  of  its  sin. 

It  is  not  a  vain  thing,  therefore,  to  fear  the  Lord. 


'  Baxter  (T^arrative,  Part  I.)  groweth  up  by  degrees  from  the 
remarks  "that  fear,  being  an  more  troublesome  and  safe  opera- 
easier  and  irresistible  passion,  tion  of  fear,  to  the  more  high 
doth  oft  obseui-e  that  measure  of  and  excellent  operations  of  com- 
love  whicli  is  indeed  within  us  ;  phicential  love." 
and  that  tbe  soul    of  a  believer 


THE   rSE    OF   FEAE    EST   EELIGION.  329 

The  emotion  of  which  we  have  been  discoursing, 
painful  thougli  it  be,  is  remunerative.  There  is 
something  in  the  very  experience  of  moral  pain 
which  brino;9  us  n'vjh  to  God.  When,  for  instance, 
in  the  hour  of  temptation,  I  discern  God's  calm  and 
holy  eye  bent  upon  me,  and  I  wither  beneath  it, 
and  resist  the  enticement  because  I  fear  to  disobey, 
I  am  brought  by  this  chapter  in  my  experience  into 
very  close  contact  with  my  Maker.  There  has  been 
a  vivid  and  personal  transaction  between  us.  I 
have  heard  him  say :  "  If  thou  doest  that  wicked 
thing  thou  shalt  surely  die;  refrain  from  doing  it, 
and  I  will  love  thee  and  bless  thee."  This  is  the 
secret  of  the  great  and  swift  reaction  which  often 
takes  place,  in  the  sinners  soul.  He  moodily  and 
obstinately  fights  against  the  Divine  displeasure. 
In  this  state  of  things,  there  is  nothing  but  fear 
and  torment.  Suddenly  he  gives  way,  acknowledges 
that  it  is  a  good  and  a  just  anger,  no  longer  seeks 
to  beat  it  back  from  his  guilty  soul,  but  lets  the 
billows  roll  over  while  he  casts  himself  upon  the 
Divine  pity.  In  this  act  and  instant, — which  in- 
volves the  destiny  of  the  soul,  and  has  millenniums 
in  it, — when  he  recognizes  the  justice  and  trusts  in 
the  mercy  of  God,  there  is  a  great  rebound,  and 
through  his  tears  he  sees  the  depth,  the  amazing 
depth,  of  the  Divine  compassion.  For,  paradoxical 
as  it  appears,  God's  love  is  best  seen  in  the  light  of 
God's  displeasure.  When  the  soul  is  penetrated 
by  this  latter  feeling,  and  is  thoroughly  sensible  of 


330  THE    USE    OF   FEAK    IN    RELIGION. 

its  own  wortlilessness, — wlien  man  knows  himself 
to  be  vile,  and  filthy,  and  fit  only  to  be  burned  up 
by  the  Divine  immaculateness, — then,  to  have  the 
Great  God  take  him  to  His  heart,  and  j)oui'  out 
upon  him  the  infinite  wealth  of  His  mercy  and 
compassion,  is  overwhelming.  Here,  the  Divine  in- 
dio-nation  becomes  a  foil  to  set  off  the  Divine  love. 
Head  the  sixteenth  chapter  of  Ezekiel,  with  an  eye 
"  purged  with  euphrasy  and  rue,"  so  that  you  can 
take  in  the  full  spiritual  significance  of  the  com- 
parisons and  metaphors,  and  your  whole  soul  will 
dissolve  in  tears,  as  you  perceive  how  the  great  and 
pure  God,  in  every  instance  in  which  He  saves  an 
apostate  spirit,  is  compelled  to  bow  His  heavens 
and  come  do^vn  into  a  loathsome  sty  of  sensual- 
ity.^ Would  it  be  love  of  the  highest  order,  in  a  ser- 
aph, to  leave  the  pure  cerulean  and  trail  his  white 
garments  through  the  haunts  of  vice,  to  save  the 
wretched  inmates  from  themselves  and  their  sins? 
O  then  what  must  be  the  desrree  of  aftection  and 
compassion,  when  the  infinite  Deity,  whose  essence 
is  light  itself,  and  whose  nature  is  the  intensest  con- 
trary of  all  sin,  tabernacles  in  the  flesh  upon  the 
errand  of  redemption !  And  if  the  pure  spirit  of 
that  seraph,  while  filled  with  an  inefi^able  loathing, 

'"Tlius   snitli   the   Lord    God  day  that  tliou  wast  born.     And 

unto  Jerusalem,  tliy  birth  and  thy  w lien  I  passed   by  tliee   and  saw 

nativity  is  lit' tlie  htnd  (if  Canaan  ;  thee  polluted  in   thy  own  blood, 

tliy  father  was  an  Aniorite,  and  I  said  unto  tliee  when  thou  wast 

thy    inotlier    an     llictite.     Thou  in   thy   blood,   Live  ;   yea  I  said 

wast  cast  out  in  the  open  field,  to  unto  tliee  when  thnu  wast  in  thy 

the  loathiiij^  of  thy  person,  in  the  blood,  Live."  Ezekiel  xvi.  1,  5,  6. 


THE    USE    OF   FEAR    IN    RELIGION.  331 

and  the  hottest  moral  indisfnation,  at  what  he  saw 
in  character  and  conduct,  were  also  yearning  with 
an  unspeakable  desire  after  the  deliverance  of  the 
vicious  from  their  vice, — the  moral  wrath  thus  set- 
ting in  still  stronger  relief  the  moral  compassion 
that  holds  it  in  check, — what  must  be  the  relation 
between  these  two  emotions  in  the  Divine  Being  ! 
Is  not  the  one  the  measure  of  the  other  ?  And  does 
not  the  soul  that  fears  God  in  a  suhnissive  manner, 
and  acknowled2:es  the  rijjhteousness  of  the  Divine 
displeasure  with  entire  acquiescence  and  no  sullen 
resistance,  prepare  the  way,  in  this  very  act,  for  an 
equally  intense  manifestation  of  the  Divine  mercy 
and  forgiveness  ? 

The  sulgect  treated  of  in  this  discourse  is  one  of 
the  most  important,  and  frequent,  that  is  presented 
in  the  Sci-iptures.  He  who  examines  is  startled  to 
find  that  the  phrase,  "  fear  of  the  Lord,"  is  woven 
into  the  whole  web  of  Revelation  from  Genesis  to 
the  Apocalypse.  The  feeling  and  principle  under 
discussion  has  a  Biblical  authority,  and  significance, 
that  cannot  be  pondered  too  long,  or  too  closely. 
It,  therefore,  has  an  interest  for  every  human  being, 
whatever  may  be  liis  character,  his  condition,  or  his 
circumstances.  All  c-reat  relisrious  awakenino-s  be- 
gin  in  the  dawning  of  the  august  and  terrible 
aspects  of  the  Deity  upon  the  popular  miiul,  and 
they  i-each  their  height  and  ha])py  consummation, 
ill  tliat  h)ve  and  faith  for  which  the  antecedent  fear 
has  been  the  preparation.     Well  and  blessed  would 


332  THE    USE    OF    FEAE    IN    RELIGIOIS". 

it  be  for  tbis  irreverent  and  uufearing  age,  in  which 
the  advance  in  mechanical  arts  and  vice  is  greatei 
than  that  in  letters  and  virtue,  if  the  popular  mind 
could  be  made  reflective  and  solemn  by  this  great 
emotion. 

We  would,  therefore,  pass  by  all  other  feelings, 
and  endeavor  to  fix  the  eye  upon  the  distinct  and 
unambiguous  fear  of  God,  and  would  urge  the 
young,  especially,  to  seek  for  it  as  for  hid  treasures. 
The  feeling  is  a  painful  one,  because  it  is  Si  prepara- 
tory one.  There  are  other  forms  of  religious  emo- 
tion which  are  more  attractive,  and  are  necessary 
in  their  place ;  these  you  may  be  inclined  to  culti- 
vate, at  tbe  expense  of  the  one  enjoined  by  our 
Lord  in  tbe  text.  But  we  solemnly  and  earnestly 
entreat  you,  not  to  suffer  your  inclination  to  divert 
your  attention  from  your  duty  and  your  true  inter- 
est. We  tell  you,  with  confidence,  that  next  to 
the  affectionate  and  filial  love  of  God  in  your  heart, 
there  is  no  feeling  or  principle  in  the  whole  seiiea 
that  will  be  of  such  real  solid  service  to  you,  as  that 
one  enjoined  by  our  Lord  upon  "  His  disciples  first 
of  all."  You  will  need  its  awing  and  repressing 
influence,  in  many  a  trying  scene,  in  many  a  severe 
temptation.  Be  encouraged  to  cherish  it,  from  the 
fact  that  it  is  a  very  effective,  a  very  powerful 
emotion.  He  who  has  the  fear  of  God  before  his 
eyes  is  actually  and  often  kept  from  Mling.  It 
will  prevail  with  your  weak  will,  and  your  infirm 
purpose,  when   other    motives    fail.     And   if  you 


THE    USE    OF    FEAR    IN    RELIGION.  333 

could  but  stand  where  those  do,  who  have  passed 
through  that  fearful  and  dangerous  passage  through 
which  you  are  now  making  a  transit ;  if  you  could 
but  know,  as  they  do,  of  what  untold  value  is 
everything  that  deters  from  the  wrong  and  nerves 
to  the  right,  in  the  critical  moments  of  human  life ; 
you  would  know,  as  they  do,  the  utmost  importance 
of  cherishing  a  solemn  and  serious  dread  of  dis- 
pleasing God.  The  more  simple  and  unmixed  this 
feeling  is  in  your  own  experience,  the  more  influen- 
tial will  it  be.  Fix  it  deeply  in  the  mind,  that  the 
great  God  is  holy.  Kecur  to  this  fact  continually. 
IK  the  dread  which  it  awakens  casts  a  shadow  over 
the  gayety  of  youth,  remember  that  you  need  this, 
and  will  not  be  injured  by  it.  The  doctrine  com- 
mends itself  to  you,  because  you  are  young,  and 
because  you  are  strong.  If  it  fills  you  with  mis- 
givings, at  times,  and  threatens  to  destroy  your 
peace  of  mind,  let  the  emotion  operate.  Never  stifle 
it,  as  you  value  your  salvation.  You  had  better 
be  unhappy  for  a  season,  than  yield  to  temptation 
and  grievous  snares  which  will  drown  you  in  per- 
dition. Even  it'  it  hangs  dark  and  low  over  the 
horizon  of  your  life,  and  for  a  time  invests  this 
world  with  sadness,  V)e  resolute  with  yourself,  and 
do  not  attempt  to  remove  the  feeling,  except  in  the 
legitimate  way  of  the  gospel.  Rememl)er  that 
every  human  soul  out  of  Christ  ought  to  fear,  "  for 
he  that  believeth  not  on  the  Son,  the  wrath  of  God 
abideth  on  him."     And  remember,  also,  that  every 

15* 


334  THE    USE    OF   FEAR    EST    RELIGION. 

one  who  believes  in  Christ  onght  not  to  fear ;  for 
"  there  is  no  condemnation  to  them  that  are  in 
Christ  Jesus,  and  he  that  believeth  on  the  Son  hath 
everlastino;  life." 

And  with  this  thouo;ht  would  we  close.  This 
fear  of  God  may  and  should  end  in  the  perfect  love 
that  casteth  out  fear.  This  powerful  and  terrible 
emotion,  which  we  have  been  considering,  may  and 
ought  to  prepare  the  soul  to  welcome  the  sweet 
and  thrilling  accents  of  Christ  saying,  "  Come  unto 
me  all  ye  that  are  weary  and  heavy  laden,"  with 
your  fears  of  death,  judgment,  and  eternity,  "and  I 
will  give  you  rest."  Faitli  in  Christ  lifts  the  soul 
above  all  fears,  and  eventually  raises  it  to  that 
serene  world,  that  blessed  state  of  being,  where 
there  is  no  more  curse  and  no  more  foreboding. 

"Serene  will  be  our  days,  and  bright, 
And  bappy  will  our  nature  be, 
Wbeu  love  is  an  unerring  ligbt, 
And  joy  its  own  security." 


THE  PRESENT  LIFE  AS  RELATED  TO  THE  FUTURE. 


Luke  xvi.  25. — "And  Abraham  said,  Son  remember  that  thou  in  thy  lile- 
time  receiv6dst  thy  good  things,  and  Ukewise  Lazarus  evil  things ;  but 
now  he  is  comforted,  and  thou  art  tormented." 


The  parable  of  Dives  and  Lazarus  is  one  of  the 
most  solemn  passages  in  the  whole  Kevelation  of 
God.  In  it,  our  Lord  giv^es  very  definite  statements 
concerning  the  condition  of  those  who  have  depart- 
ed this  life.  It  makes  no  practical  difference, 
whether  we  assume  that  this  was  a  real  occurrence, 
or  only  an  imaginary  one, — whether  there  actually 
was  such  a  particular  rich  man  as  Dives,  and  such 
a  particular  beggar  as  Lazarus,  or  whether  the  nar- 
rative was  invented  by  Christ  for  the  purpose  of 
conveying  the  instruction  which  he  desired  to  give. 
The  instruction  is  given  in  either  case ;  and  it  is 
the  instruction  with  which  we  are  concerned.  Be 
it  a  parable,  or  be  it  a  historical  fact,  our  Lord  here 
teaches,  in  a  manner  not  to  be  disputed,  that  a  man 
who  seeks  enjoyment  in  this  life  as  his  chief  end 
shall  suffer  torments  in  the  next  life,  and  that  he 
who  endures  suffering  in  this  life  for  righteousness' 


336  THE   PRESENT   LIl^E   AS 

sake  shall  dwell  in  paradise  in  the  next, — that  he 
who  finds  his  life  here  shall  lose  his  life  hereafter, 
and  that  he  who  loses  his  life  here  shall  find  it  here 
after. 

For,  we  cannot  for  a  moment  suppose  that  such 
a  Being  as  Jesus  Christ  merely  intended  to  play 
upon  the  fears  of  men,  in  putting  forth  such  a  pic- 
ture as  this.  He  knevv^  that  this  narrative  would  be 
read  by  thousands  and  millions  of  mankind  ;  that 
they  would  take  it  from  His  lips  as  absolute  truth ; 
that  they  would  inevitably  infer  from  it,  that  the 
souls  of  men  do  verily  live  after  death,  that  some  of 
them  are  in  bliss  and  some  of  them  are  in  pain,  and 
that  the  difl^erence  between  them  is  due  to  the  dif- 
ference in  the  lives  which  they  lead  here  upon  earth. 
Now,  if  Christ  was  ignorant  upon  these  subjects, 
He  had  no  right  to  make  such  representations  and 
to  give  such  impressions,  even  through  a  merely  im- 
aginary narrative.  And  still  less  could  He  be  jus- 
tified in  so  doing,  if,  being  perfectly  informed  upon 
the  subject.  He  knew  that  there  is  no  such  place  as 
that  in  which  He  puts  the  luxurious  Dives,  and  no 
such  impassable  gulf  as  that  of  which  He  speaks. 
It  will  not  do,  here,  to  employ  the  Jesuitical  maxim 
that  the  end  justifies  the  means,  and  say,  as  some 
teachers  have  said,  that  the  wholesome  impression 
that  will  be  made  upon  the  vicious  and  the  profli- 
gate justifies  an  appeal  to  their  fears,  by  preaching 
the  doctrine  of  endless  retribution,  althouo-h  there 
is  no  such   thing.     This  was  a  fatal   error  in  the 


KELATED  TO  THE  FUTURE.         337 

teachi'nirs  of  Clement  of  Alexandria,  and  Orio-en. 
"God  threatens," — said  they, — "and  punishes,  bat 
only  to  improve,  never  for  purposes  of  retribution  ; 
and  tliough,  in  public  discourse,  the  fruitlessness  of 
repentance  after  death  be  asserted,  yet  hereafter  not 
only  those  who  have  not  heard  of  Christ  will  re- 
ceive forgiveness,  but  the  severer  punishment  which 
befalls  the  obstinate  unbelievers  will,  it  may  be 
hoped,  not  be  the  conclusion  of  their  history."  ^  But 
can  we  suppose  that  such  a  sincere,  such  a  truth- 
ful and  such  a  holy  Being  as  the  Son  of  God 
would  stoop  to  any  such  artifice  as  this  ?  that  He 
who  called  Himself  The  Truth  would  employ  a  lie, 
either  directly  or  indirectly,  even  to  promote  the 
spiritual  welfare  of  men  ?  He  never  spake  for  mere 
sensation.  The  fact,  then,  that  in  this  solemn  pas- 
sage of  Scripture  we  find  the  Iledeemer  calmly 
describing  and  minutely  picturing  the  condition  of 
two  persons  in  the  future  woild,  distinctly  specify- 
ing the  points  of  difference  between  them,  putting 
words  into  their  mouths  that  indicate  a  sad  and 
hopeless  experience  in  one  of  them,  and  a  glad  and 
happy  one  in  the  other  of  them, — the  fact  that  in 
this  treatment  of  the  awful  theme  our  Lord,  beyond 
all  controversy,  coiiveys  the  impression  that  these 
scenes  and  experiences  are  real  and  true, — is  one  of 
the  strongest  of  all  proofs  that  they  are  so. 
The  reader  of  Dante's  Inferno  is  always  struck  with 

'  SiiEDD  :  History  of  Doctrine,  II.,  234  sq. 


338  THE   PRESENT   LIFE   AS 

the  sincerity  and  realism  of  that  poem.     Under  the 
delineation  of  that  luminous,  and  that  intense  under- 
standing, hell  has  a  topographic  reality.     We  wind 
along  down  those  nine  circles  as  down  a  volcanic 
crater,   black,  jagged,  precipitous,   and  impinging 
upon   the   senses   at   every  step.     The    sighs  and 
shrieks  jar  our  own  tympanum;  and  the  convulsions 
of  the  lost  excite  tremors  in  our  own  nerves.     No 
wonder  that  the  children  in  the  streets  of  Florence, 
as  they  saw  the  sad  and  earnest  man  pass  along,  his 
face  lined  with  passion  and  his  brow  scarred  with 
thought,  pointed  at  him  and  said:  "There  goes  the 
man  who  has  been  in  hell."     But  how  infinitelv 
more  solemn  is  the  impression  that  is  made  by  these 
tliirteen  shoi-t  verses,  of  the   sixteenth   chapter  of 
Luke's  gospel,  from  the  lips  of  such  a  Being  as  Je- 
sus Christ !     We  have  here  the  terse  and  pregnant 
teachings  of  one  who,  in  the   phrase   of  the   early 
Creed,   not  only  "  descended  into   hell,"  but  who 
"  hath  the  keys  of  death  and  hell."     We  have  here 
not  the  utterances  of  the  most  truthful,  and  the  most 
earnest  of  all  human  poets, — a  man  who,  we   may 
believe,  felt  deeply  the  power  of  the  Hebrew  Bible, 
though  living  in  a  dark  age,  and  a  superstitious 
Church, — we  have  here  the  utterances  of  the  Son  of 
God,  very  God,  of  very  God,  and  we  may  be  cer- 
tain that  He  intended  to  convey  no  impression  that 
will  not  be  made  good  in  the  world  to  come.    And 
when  every  eye  shall  see  Him,  and  all  the  sinful 
kindreds  of  the  earth  shall  wail  because  of  Him, 


RELATED  TO  THE  FUTURE.  339 

there  will  not  be  any  eye  that  can  look  into  His  and 
say :  "  Thy  description,  O  Son  of  God,  was  over- 
drawn ;  the  impression  was  greater  than  the  reality." 
On  the  contrary,  every  human  soul  will  say  in  the 
day  of  judgment :  "  We  were  forewarned  ;  .the  state- 
ments were  exact ;  even  according  to  Thy  fear,  so  is 
Thy  wrath  "  (Ps.  xc.  11). 

But  what  is  the  lesson  w^hich  w^e  are  to  read  by 
this  clear  and  solemn  lio-ht?  What  would  our 
mei'ciful  Redeemer  have  us  learn  from  this  passage 
which  He  has  caused  to  be  recorded  for  our  instruc- 
tion ?  Let  us  listen  with  a  candid  and  a  feelinsf 
heart,  because  it  comes  to  us  not  from  an  enemy  of 
the  human  soul,  not  from  a  Being  who  delights  to 
cast  it  into  hell,  but  from  a  friend  of  the  soul ;  be- 
cause it  comes  to  us  from  One  who,  in  His  own  per- 
son and  in  His  own  flesh,  suffered  an  anguish  supe- 
rior in  dignity  and  equal  in  cancelling  power  to  the 
pains  of  all  the  hells,  in  order  that  we,  through 
repentance  and  faith,  might  be  spared  their  inflic- 
tion. 

The  lesson  is  this :  The  man  who  seeks  enjoyment 
in  this  life,  as  his  chief  end,  must  suffer  in  the  next 
life;  and  he  tvho  endures  suffering  in  this  life^  for 
righteousness  saJce^  shall  he  happy  in  the  next.  "  Son, 
remember  that  thou  in  thy  lifetime  receivedst  thy 
good  things,  and  likewise  Lazarus  evil  things ;  but 
now  he  is  comforted,  and  thou  art  tormented." 

It  is  a  fixed  principle  in  the  Divine  administra- 
tion, that  the  scales  of  justice  shall  in  the  end  be 


340  THE   PEESENT   LIFE   A 

made  equal.  If,  therefore,  sin  enjoys  in  this  world, 
it  must  sorrow  in  the  next ;  and  if  righteousness  sor- 
rows in  this  world,  it  must  enjoy  in  the  next.  The 
experience  shall  be  reversed,  in  order  to  bring  every- 
thing ta  a  right  position  and  adjustment.  This  is 
everywhere  taught  in  the  Bible.  "  Woe  unto  you 
that  are  rich  !  for  ye  have  received  your  consolation. 
Woe  unto  you  that  are  full !  for  ye  shall  hunger. 
Woe  unto  you  that  laugh  now  !  for  ye  shall  mourn 
and  weep.  Blessed  are  ye  that  hunger  now ;  for 
ye  shall  be  filled.  Blessed  are  ye  that  weep  now ; 
for  ye  shall  laugh"  (Luke  vi.  21,  24,  25).  These 
are  the  explicit  declarations  of  the  Founder  of 
Christianity,  and  they  ought  not  to  surprise  us, 
coming  as  they  do  from  Him  who  expressly  declares 
that  His  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world ;  that  in  this 
world  His  disciples  must  have  tribulation,  as  He 
had  ;  that  through  much  tribulation  they  must  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  God ;  that  whosoever  doth  not 
take  up  the  cross  daily,  and  follow  Him,  cannot  be 
His  disciple. 

Let  us  notice  some  particulars,  in  which  we  see 
the  operation  of  this  principle.  What  are  the 
"  o;ood  thinofs  "  which  Dives  receives  here,  for  which 
he  must  be  "  tormented  ''  hereafter  ?  and  what  are 
the  "  evil  thino-s "  which  Lazarus  receives  in  this 
world,  for  which  he  will  be  "  comforted "  in  the 
world  to  come  ? 

L  In  the  first  place,  the  worldly  man  derives  a 
more  inteiise pliysical  enjoyment  from  this  world's 


RELATED   TO    THE    FUTURE.  3-11 

goods,  than  does  the  child  of  God.  lie  possesses 
more  of  them,  and  gives  himself  up  to  them  with 
less  self-restraint.  The  majority  of  those  who  have 
heen  most  prospered  by  Divine  Providence  in  the 
accamnlation  of  wealth  have  been  outside  of  the 
kingdom  and  the  ark  of  God.  Not  many  rich  and 
not  many  noble  are  called.  In  the  past  history  of 
mankind,  the  great  possessions  and  the  great  in- 
comes, as  a  general  rule,  have  not  been  in  the  hands 
of  humble  and  penitent  men.  In  the  great  centres 
of  trade  and  commerce, — in  Venice,  Amsterdam, 
Paris,  London, — it  is  the  world  and  not  the  people 
of  God  who  have  had  the  purse,  and  have  borne 
what  is  put  therein.  Satan  is  described  in  Scrip- 
ture, as  the  "  prince  of  this  world  "  (John  xiv.  80)  ; 
and  his  words  addressed  to  the  Son  of  God  are  true : 
"  x\ll  this  power  and  glory  is  delivered  unto  me, 
and  to  whomsoever  I  will,  I  give  it.''  In  the  para- 
ble from  which  we  are  discoursing,  the  sinful  man 
was  the  rich  man,  and  the  child  of  God  was  the 
beggar.  And  lio\v  often  do  we  see,  in  every-day 
life,  a  faithful,  prayerful,  upright,  and  pure-minded 
man,  toiling  in  poverty,  and  so  far  as  earthly  com- 
forts are  concerned  enjoying  little  or  nothing,  while 
a  selfish,  pleasure-seeking,  and  profligate  man  is  im- 
mersed in  physical  comforts  and  luxuries.  The 
former  is  receiving:  evil  thino-s,  and  the  latter  is  re- 
ceivino^  ffood  thinc^s,  in  this  life. 

Again,  how  often  it  happens  that  a  fine  physical 
constitution,  health,  strength,  and  vigor,  are  given 


342  THE   PEESENT    LIFE    AS 

to  the  worldling,  and  are  denied  to  the  child  of  God. 
The  possession  of  worldly  good  is  greatly  enhanced 
in  value,  by  a  fine  caj^ability  of  enjoj^ng  it.  When 
therefore  we  see  wealth  joined  with  health,  and 
luxury  in  all  the  surroundings  and  appointments 
combined  with  taste  to  appreciate  them  and  a  full 
fiow  of  blood  to  enjoy  them,  or  access  to  wide  and 
iniluential  circles,  in  politics  and  fashion,  given  to 
one  who  is  well  fitted  by  personal  qualities  to  move 
in  them, — when  we  see  a  happy  adaptation  existing 
between  the  man  and  his  good  fortune,  as  we  call 
it, — we  see  not  only  the  "good  things,"  but  the 
"  good  things  "  in  their  gayest  and  most  attractive 
forms  and  colors.  And  how  often  is  all  this  observed 
in  the  instance  of  the  natural  man ;  and  how  often 
is  there  little  or  none  of  this  in  the  instance  of  the 
spiritual  man.  We  \)j  no  means  impl}^,  that  it  is 
impossible  for  the  possessor  of  this  world's  goods 
to  love  mercy,  to  do  justly,  and  to  walk  humbly ; 
and  we  are  "well  aware  that  under  the  garb  of 
poverty  and  toil  there  may  beat  a  murmuring  and 
rebellious  heart.  But  we  think  that  from  genera- 
tion to  generation,  in  this  imperfect  and  probation- 
ary world,  it  will  be  found  to  be  a  fact,  that  when 
inerelij  earthly  and  physical  good  is  allotted  in  large 
amounts  by  the  providence  of  God ;  that  when 
great  incomes  and  ample  means  of  luxury  are  given  ; 
in  the  majority  of  instances  they  are  given  to  the 
enemies  of  God,  and  not  to  His  dear  children.  So 
the   Psalmist  seems  to  have  thouo;ht.     "  I  was  en- 


RELATED  TO  THE  FUTURE.  343 

vioiis," — lie  say?5, — "  when  I  saw  the  prosperity  of 
the  winked.  For  there  are  no  l)ands  in  their  deatli ; 
but  their  strength  is  firm.  They  are  not  in  trouble 
as  other  men  ;  neither  are  they  plagued  like  other 
men.  Therefore  pride  compasseth  them  about  as  a 
chain  :  violence  covereth  them  as  a  i^arment.  Their 
eyes  stand  out  with  fatness ;  they  have  more  than 
heart  could  wish.  Behold  these  are  the  ungodly 
who  prosper  in  the  woi-ld ;  they  increase  in  riches. 
Verily  Zhave  cleansed  my  heart  in  vain,  and  wash- 
ed my  hands  in  innocency.  For  all  day  long  have 
Zbeen  plagued,  and  chastened  every  morning"  (Ps. 
Ixxiii).  And  it  should  be  carefully  noticed,  that 
the  Psalmist,  even  after  further  reflection,  does  not 
alter  his  statement  respecting  the  relative  positions 
of  the  godly  and  the  ungodly  in  this  world.  He 
sees  no  reason  to  correct  his  estimate,  upon  this 
point.  He  lets  it  stand.  So  far  as  this  merely 
physical  existence  is  concerned,  the  wicked  man 
has  the  advantage.  It  is  only  when  the  Psalmist 
looks  beyond  this  life,  that  he  sees  the  compensation, 
and  the  balancincj  a2:ain  of  the  scales  of  eternal 
right  and  justice.  "  When  I  thought  to  know  this," 
— when  I  reflected  upon  this  inequality,  and  ap- 
parent injustice,  in  the  treatment  of  the  friends  and 
the  enemies  of  God, — "  it  was  too  painful  for  me, 
nntil  I  went  into  the  sanctuary  of  God," — until  I 
took  my  stand  in  the  eternal  world,  and  formed  my 
estimate  there, — "  then  understood  I  their  end. 
Surely  thou  didst  set  them  in  slippery  places  •  thou 


344  THE  PRESEJ^n:  life  as 

castedst  them  doAvn  to  destruction.  How  are  they 
brought  into  desolation  as  in  a  moment !  They  are 
utterly  consumed  with  terrors."  Dives  passes  from 
his  fine  linen  and  sumptuous  fare,  from  his  excessive 
physical  enjoyment,  to  everlasting  perdition. 

II.  In  the  second  place,  the  worldly  man  derives 
more  enjoyment  from  sin,  and  svjfers  less  from  it^ 
iu  this  life,  than  does  the  child  of  God.  Tlie  really 
renewed  man  cannot  enjoy  sin.  It  is  true  that  he 
does  sin,  owing  to  the  strength  of  old  habits,  and 
the  remainders  of  his  corruption.  But  he  does  not 
really  delight  in  it;  and  he  says  with  St.  Paul: 
"  What  I  would,  that  do  I  not ;  but  what  I  hate, 
that  do  I."  His  sin  is  a  sorrow,  a  constant  sorrow, 
to  him.  He  feels  its  pressure  and  burden  all  his 
days,  and  cries :  "  O  wretched  man,  w^ho  shall  de- 
liver me  from  the  body  of  this  death."  If  he  falls 
into  it,  he  cannot  live  in  it ;  as  a  man  may  fall  into 
water,  but  it  is  not  his  natural  element. 

Again,  the  good  man  not  only  takes  no  real  de- 
light in  sin,  but  his  reflections  after  transgression 
are  very  painful.  He  has  a  tentler  conscience. 
Plis  senses  have  been  trained  and  disciplined  to 
discern  good  and  evil.  Hence,  the  sins  that  are 
committed  by  a  child  of  God  are  mourned  over 
with  a  very  deep  sorrow.  The  longer  he  lives,  the 
more  odious  does  sin  become  to  him,  and  the  more 
keen  and  bitter  is  his  lamentation  over  it.  Now 
this,  in  itself,  is  an  "  evil  thing."  Man  was  not 
made  for  sorrow,  and  sorrow  is  not  his  natural  con- 


BELATED  TO  THE  FUTrRE.  345 

dition.  This  wearisome  stru<>;Q:le  with  indwelliii<> 
corruption,  these  reproaches  of  an  impartial  con- 
science, this  sense  of  imperfection  and  of  constant 
foilui'e  in  the  service  of  God, — all  this  renders  the 
believer's  life  on  earth  a  season  of  trial,  and  tribula- 
tion. The  thou2:ht  of  its  lasting:  forever  would  be 
painful  to  him  ;  and  if  he  should  be  told  that  it  is 
the  will  of  God,  that  he  should  continue  to  be 
vexed  and  foiled  through  all  eternity,  with  the 
motions  of  sin  in  his  members,  and  that  his  love 
and  obedience  would  forever  be  imperfect,  though 
he  would  he  thankful  that  even  this  was  granted 
him,  and  that  he  was  not  utterly  cast  off,  yet  he 
Avould  wear  a  shaded  brow,  at  the  prospect  of  an 
imperfect,  though  a  sincere  and  a  struggling  eter- 
nity. 

But  the  ungodly  are  not  so.  The  worldly  man 
loves  sin ;  loves  pleasure ;  loves  self.  And  the 
love  is  so  strong,  and  accompanied  with  so  much 
enjoyment  and  zest,  that  it  is  lust,  and  is  so  denomi- 
nated in  the  Bible.  And  if  you  would  only  defend 
him  from  the  wrath  of  God ;  if  you  would  warrant 
him  immunity  in  doing  as  he  likes;  if  you  could 
shelter  him  as  in  an  inaccessible  castle  from  the 
retributions  of  eternity;  with  what  a  delirium  of 
pleasure  would  he  plunge  into  the  sin  that  he 
loves.  Tell  the  avaricious  man,  that  his  avarice 
shall  never  have  any  evil  consequences  here  or 
liereafter ;  and  with  what  an  energy  would  lie 
apply  himself  to  the  acquisition  of  wealth.     Tell 


346  THE   PRESENT    LIFE   AS 

the  luxurious  man,  full  of  passion  and  full  of  Wood, 
tLat  Lis  pleasures  shall  never  bring  down  any  evil 
upon  him,  that  there  is  no  power  in  the  universe 
that  can  hurt  him,  and  with  what  an  abandonment 
would  he  surrender  himself  to  his  carnal  elysium. 
Tell  the  ambitious  man,  iired  with  visions  of 
fame  and  glory,  that  he  may  banish  all  fears  of 
a  final  account,  that  he  may  make  himself  his  own 
deity,  and  breathe  in  the  incense  of  worshipers, 
without  any  rebuke  from  Him  who  says  :  "  I  am 
God,  and  my  glory  I  will  not  give  to  another," — 
assure  the  proud  and  ambitious  man  that  his  sin 
will  never  find  him  out,  and  with  wdiat  a  momen- 
tum will  he  follow  out  his  inclination.  For,  in 
each  of  these  instances  there  is  a  hanhering  and  a 
lust.  The  sin  is  loved  and  revelled  in^  for  its  own 
deliciousness.  The  heart  is  worldly,  and  therefore 
finds  its  pleasure  in  its  forbidden  objects  and  aims. 
The  instant  you  propose  to  check  or  thwart  this 
inclination ;  the  instant  you  try  to  detach  this 
natural  heart  from  its  wealth,  or  its  pleasure,  or  its 
earthly  fame  ;  you  discover  how  closely  it  clings, 
and  how  strongly  it  loves,  and  how  intensely  it 
enjoys  the  forbidden  object.  Like  the  greedy  in- 
sect in  our  gardens,  it  has  fed  until  every  fibre  and 
tissue  is  colored  with  its  food ;  and  to  remove  it 
from  the  leaf  is  to  tear  and  lacerate  it. 

Now  it  is  for  this  reason,  that  the  natural  man 
receives  "  good  things,"  or  experiences  pleasure,  in 
this  life,  at  a  point  where  the  spiritual  man  receives 


RELATED  TO  THE  FUTURE.  347 

"evil  things,"  or  experiences  pain.  The  child  of 
God  does  not  relish  and  enjoy  sin  in  this  style. 
Sin  in  the  good  man  is  a  burden  ;  ])iit  in  the 
bad  man  it  is  a  pleasure.  It  is  all  the  pleasure  he 
has.  And  when  you  propose  to  take  it  away  from 
him,  or  when  you  ask  him  to  give  it  up  of  his  own 
accord,  he  looks  at  you  and  asks  :  "  Will  you  take 
away  the  only  solace  I  have  ?  I  have  no  joy  in 
God.  I  take  no  enjoyment  in  divine  things.  Do 
you  ask  me  to  make  myself  wholly  miseraV)le  ? " 

And  not  only  does  the  natural  man  enjoy  sin,  but, 
in  this  life,  he  is  much  less  troubled  than  is  the 
spiritual  man  with  I'eflections  and  self-reproaches 
on  account  of  sin.  This  is  anotlier  of  the  "  good 
thinirs"  which  Dives  receives,  for  which  he  must 
be  "  tormented  ;"  and  this  is  another  of  the  "  evil 
things"  which  Lazarus  receives,  for  which  he  must 
l)e  "comforted,"  It  cannot  be  denied,  that  in  this 
world  the  child  of  God  suffers  more  mental  sorrow 
for  sin,  in  a  given'  period  of  time,  than  does  the 
insensible  man  of  the  world.  If  we  could  look  into 
the  soul  of  a  faithful  disciple  of  Christ,  we  should 
disci)ver  that  not  a  day  passes,  in  w^hich  his  con- 
science does  not  reproach  him  for  sins  of  thought, 
word,  or  deed ;  in  which  he  does  not  struggle  with 
some  bosom  sin,  until  he  is  so  weary  that  he  cries 
out:  "Oh  that  I  had  wings  like  a  dove,  so  that  I 
might  fly  away,  and  be  at  rest."  Some  of  the  most 
exemplary  members  of  the  Church  go  mourning 
from   day  to  day,  because  their  hearts   are   still  so 


348  THE   PEESENT   LITE   AS 

far  from  their  God  and  Saviour,  and  their  lives  fall 
so  far  short  of  what  they  desire  them  to  l)e.^  Their 
experience  is  not  a  positively  wretched  one,  like 
tliat  of  an  unforgiven.  sinner  when  he  is  feeling  the 
stings  of  conscience.  They  are  forgiven.  The  ex- 
piating blood  has  soothed  the  ulcerated  conscience, 
so  that  it  no  longer  stings  and  burns.  They  have 
hope  in  God's  mercy.  Still,  they  are  in  giief  and 
sorrow  for  sin ;  and  their  experience,  in  so  far,  is 
not  a  perfectly  happ)''  one,  such  as  will  ultimately 
be  their  portion  in  a  Vjetter  world.  "  If  in  this  life 
only," — says  St.  Paul, — "  we  have  hope  in  Christ,  we 
are  of  all  men  most  miserable"  (1  Cor.  xv.  19). 

But  the  stupid  and  impenitent  man,  a  luxurious 
Dives,  knows  nothing  of  all  this.  His  days  glide 
by  with  no  twinges  of  conscience.  What  does  he 
know  of  the  burden  of  sin  ?  His  conscience  is  dead 
asleep ;  perchance  seared  as  with  a  hot  iron.  He 
does  wrong  without  any  remorse;  he  disobeys  the 
express  commands  of  God,  without  any  misgivings 

'  The  early  relii,nousex]yerience  are  trifles.  One  drop  of  that 
of  Juhii  Owen  furnisiies  II  striking  wrath  which  shall  finally  fill  the 
illustration.  "For  a  quarter  of  cup  of  tiie  ungodly,  poured  into 
a  year,  lie  avoided  almost  all  in-  the  mind,  is  enoufzh  to  poison  all 
teroourse  with  men  ;  could  scarce-  the  comforts  of  life,  and  to  spread 
ly  be  in<luced  to  speak  ;  and  mourning,  lamentation,  and  woe 
whr-n  he  did  sa}^  anything,  it  over  the  countenance.  Though 
was  in  so  disordered  a  manner  the  violence  of  Ovven's  convic- 
as  rendered  him  a  wonder  to  tions  had  subsided  after  the  first 
many.  Oidy  those  who  have  severe  confiict,  they  still  con- 
experienced  the  bitterness  of  a  tinned  to  disturb  his  peace,  and 
w<iun(led  spirit  can  form  an  idea  nearly  five  years  clajised  from 
of  the  distress  he  must  have  suf-  their  commencement  befoi'e  he 
fered.  Compared  with  this  an-  obtained  solid  comfort."  Oeme: 
gui>h  of  soul,  all  the  afiHictions  Life  of  Owen,  Chap.  I. 
which   befall  a  sinner   [on  earth] 


RELATED  TO  THE  FUTURE.         349 

or  self-reproach.  He  is  "  alire,  without  the  law," — 
as  St.  Paul  expresses  it.  His  eyes  stand  out  with 
fatness;  and  his  lieart,  in  the  Psalmist's  phrase, 
"is  as  fat  as  grease"  (Ps.  cxix.  70).  There  is  no 
religious  sensibility  in  him.  His  sin  is  a  pleasure 
to  him  without  any  mixture  of  sorrow,  because  un- 
attended by  any  remorse  of  conscience.  He  is  re- 
Cjiiving  his  "good  things"  in  this  life.  His  days 
pass  by  without  any  moral  anxiety,  and  perchance 
a-s  he  looks  upon  some  meek  and  earnest  disciple 
of  Christ  who  is  battling  with  indwelling  sin,  and 
who,  therefore,  sometimes  wears  a  grave  counte- 
nance, he  wonders  that  any  one  should  walk  so 
sol:)ei"ly,  so  gloomily,  in  such  a  cheery,  such  a  happy, 
such  a  jolly  world  as  this. 

It  is  a  startling  fact,  that  those  men  in  this  world 
who  have  most  reason  to  be  distressed  by  sin  are 
the  least  troubled  by  it;  and  those  who  have  the 
least  reason  to  be  distressed  are  the  most  troubled 
by  it.  The  child  of  God  is  the  one  who  sorrows 
most;  and  the  child  of  Satan  is  the  one  who  sor- 
rows least.  Kemember  that  we  are  speaking  only  of 
this  life.  The  text  reads :  "  Thou  ui  tliij  lifetime  re- 
ceivedst  thy  good  things,  and  likewise  Lazarus  evil 
things."  And  it  is  unquestionably  so.  The  meek 
and  lowly  disciple  of  Christ,  the  one  who  is  most 
entitled  V)y  his  character  and  conduct  to  be  untroub- 
led by  religious  anxiety,  is  the  very  one  who  bows 
his  head  as  a  bulrush,  and  perhaps  goes  mourning 
all  his  days,  fearing  that   he  is  not  accepted,  and 

16 


350  THE   PRESENT    LIEE    AS 

tliat  he  shall  be  a  cast-a-way ;  while  the  selfish  and 
thoroughly  irreligious  man,  who  ought  to  be  stunc 
through  and  through  by  his  own  conscience,  and 
feel  the  full  energy  of  the  law  which  he  is  continu- 
ally breaking, — this  man,  who  of  all  men  ought  to 
be  anxious  and  distressed  for  sin,  goes  through  a 
whole  lifetime,  perchance,  without  any  convictions 
or  any  fears. 

And  now  we  ask,  if  this  state  of  thino:s  ouo-ht  to 
last  forever?  Is  it  right,  is  it  just,  that  sin  should 
enjoy  in  this  style  forever  and  forever,  and  thai 
holiness  should  grieve  and  sorrow  in  this  style  for- 
evei-more  ?  Would  you  have  the  Almighty  ]->ay  a 
bounty  upon  unrighteousness,  and  place  goodness 
under  eternal  pains  and  penalties?  Oaght  not  this 
state  of  things  to  be  reversed  ?  When  J3ives  comes 
to  tlie  end  of  this  lifetime ;  when  he  has  run  his 
round  of  earthly  pleasure,  faring  sumptuously  every 
day,  clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen,  without  a 
thought  of  his  duties  and  obligations,  and  without 
an}^  anxiety  and  penitence  for  his  sins, — Avhen  this 
worldly  man  has  received  all  his  "good  things,"  and 
is  satiated  and  hardened  by  them,  ought  he  not 
then  to  be  "  tormented  ?"  Ought  this  guilty  carnal 
enjoyment  to  be  perpetuated  through  all  eternity, 
under  the  government  of  a  righteous  and  just  God  ? 
And,  on  the  other  hand,  ought  not  the  faithful  dis- 
ciple, who,  perhaps,  has  possessed  little  or  nothing 
of  this  world's  goods,  who  has  toiled  hard,  in  pov- 
erty, in  afiSiction,  in  temptation,  in  tribulation,  and 


RELATED  TO  THE  FUTUEE.  351 

Bometimes  like  AbraLam  in  the  horror  of  a  orreat 
darkness,  to  keep  his  robes  white,  and  his  soul  un- 
spotted fi'om  the  world, — when  the  poor  and  weary 
Lazarus  comes  to  the  end  of  this  lifetime,  ought  not 
his  ti'ials  and  sorrows  to  cease?  ought  he  not  tlien 
to  be  "comforted"  in  the  bosom  of  A])raliam,in  the. 
paradise  of  God  ?  There  is  that  within  us  all,  which 
answers,  Yea,  and  Amen.  Such  a  balancing  of  the 
scales  is  assented  to,  and  demanded  by  the  moral  con- 
victions. Hence,  in  the  parable,  Dives  himself  is 
represented  as  acquiescing  in  the  eternjd  judgment. 
He  does  not  complain  of  injustice.  It  is  true,  that 
at  first  he  asks  for  a  drop  of  water, — for  some  slight 
mitigation  of  his  punishment.  This  is  the  instinct- 
ive request  of  any  sufferer.  But  when  his  atten- 
tion is  directed  to  the  i-ic:ht  and  the  wrons;  of  the 
case;  when  Abraham  reminds  him  of  the  princiijles 
of  justice  by  which  his  destiny  has  been  decided  ; 
when  he  tells  him  that  havinir  taken  his  choice  of 
pleasure  in  the  world  which  he  has  left,  he  cannot 
now  have  pleasure  in  the  world  to  which  he  has 
come;  the  wretched  man  makes  no  reply.  Tliei-e 
is  notiiing  to  be  said.  He  feels  that  the  procedure 
is  just.  He  is  then  silent  upon  the  subject  of  his 
own  tortures,  and  only  begs  that  his  five  brethren, 
whose  lifetime  is  not  yet  run  out,  to  whom  there  is 
still  a  space  left  for  repentance,  may  be  warned  from 
his  own  lips  not  to  do  as  he  has  done, — not  to  choose 
l)leasure  on  earth  as  their  clii{;f  good ;  not  to  take 
their  "good  things"  in  this  life.     Dives,  the  man  in 


852  THE    PRESENT   LIFE    AS 

hell,  is  a  witness  to  the  justice  of  eternal  punish 
ment. 

1.  In  view  of  this  subject,  as  thus  discussed,  we 
remark  in  the  first  place,  that  no  man  can  have  his 
""  good  things,"  in  other  words,  his  chief  pleasure,  in 
both  worlds.  God  and  this  world  are  in  antagonism. 
"For  all  that  is  in  the  world,  the  lust  of  the  flesh, 
the  lust  of  the  eyes,  and  the  pride  of  life,  is  not  of 
the  Father,  but  is  of  the  world.  If  any  man  love 
the  world,  the  love  of  the  Father  is  not  in  him" 
(1  John  i.  15,  16).  It  is  the  height  of  folly,  there- 
fore, to  suppose  that  a  man  can  make  earthly  en- 
joyment his  chief  end  while  he  is  upon  earth, 
and  then  pass  to  heaven  when  he  dies.  Just  so  far 
as  he  holds  on  upon  the  "good  things"  of  this  life, 
he  relaxes  his  grasp  upoii  the  "  good  things"  of  the 
next.  No  man  is  capacious  enough  to  hold  both 
worlds  in  his  eml)race.  He  cannot  serve  God  and 
Mammon.  Look  at  this  as  ?(,  matter  of  fact.  Do 
not  take  it  as  a  theory  of  the  preacher.  It  is  as 
plain  and  certain  that  you  cannot  lay  up  your  treas- 
ure in  heaven  while  you  are  laying  it  up  upon  earth, 
as  it  is  that  your  material  bodies  cannot  occupy  two 
portions  of  space  at  one  and  the  same  time.  Dismiss, 
therefore,  all  expectations  of  being  able  to  accom- 
plish an  impossibility.  Put  not  your  mind  to  sleep 
with  the  opiate,  that  in  some  inexplicable  manner 
you  will  be  able  to  live  the  life  of  a  worldly  man 
upon  earth,  and  then  the  life  of  a  spiritual  man  in 
heaven.     There  is  no  alchemy  that  can  amalgamate 


BELATED  TO  THE  FUTURE.         353 

substances  that  refuse  to  mix.  No  man  has  ever 
yet  succeeded,  no  man  ever  will  succeed,  in  securing 
both  the  pleasures  of  sin  and  the  pleasures  of  holi- 
ness,— in  living  the  life  of  Dives,  and  then  going  to 
the  bosom  of  Abraham. 

2.  And  this  leads  to  the  second  remark,  that 
eveiy  man  must  make  his  cliolee  whether  he  will 
have  his  "  good  things  "  now,  or  hereafter.  Every 
man  is  making  his  choice.  Every  man  has  already 
made  it.  The  heart  is  now  set  either  upon  God, 
or  upon  the  w'orld.  Search  through  the  globe,  and 
you  cannot  find  a  creature  with  double  affections  ;  a 
creature  with  tivo  chief  ends  of  living ;  a  creature 
whose  treasure  is  both  upon  earth  and  in  heaven. 
All  mankind  are  single-minded.  They  either  mind 
earthly  things,  or  heavenly  things.  They  are  in 
spired  ^vith  one  predominant  purpose,  which  rules 
them,  determines  their  character,  and  decides  their 
destiny.  And  in  all  who  have  not  been  renewed 
by  Divine  grace,  the  purpose  is  a  wrong  one,  a 
false  and  fatal  one.  It  is  the  choice  and  the  ])ur- 
pose  of  Dives,  and  not  the  choice  and  purpose  of 
Lazarus. 

3.  Hence,  we  remark  in  the  third  place,  that  it 
is  the  duty  and  the  wisdom  of  every  man  to  let  this 
world  go,  and  seek  his  "good  things"  liereafter. 
Our  Lord  commands  every  man  to  sit  down,  like 
the  steward  in  the  parable,  and  make  an  estimate. 
He  enjoins  it  upon  every  man  to  reckon  up  the 
advantages   upon  each   side,  and  see  for   himself 


354  THE   PRESENT    LIFE    AS 

wliich  IS  superior.  He  asks  every  man  what  it 
will  profit  him,  "  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole  world 
and  lose  his  own  soul ;  or,  what  he  shall  give  in 
exchange  for  his  soul."  We  urge  you  to  make  this 
estimate, — to  compare  the  "  good  things "  which 
Dives  enjoyed,  with  the  "torments"  that  followed 
them  ;  and  the  "  evil  things  "  which  Lazarus  suf- 
fered, with  the  "  comfort "  that  succeeded  them. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  upon  which  side  the  balance 
will  fall.  And  we  ui'ge  you  to  take  tlie  "  evil 
things  "  noiv,  and  the  "  good  things  "  hereafter.  We 
entreat  you  to  copy  the  example  of  Moses  at  the 
court  of  the  Pharaohs,  and  in  the  midst  of  all  regal 
luxury,  who  "  chose  rather  to  suffer  affliction  with 
the  people  of  God,  than  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  sin 
for  a  season;  esteeming  the  reproach  of  Christ, 
greater  riches  than  the  treasures  in  Egypt :  for  he 
had  respect  unto  the  Tecompeiue  of  reward^  Take 
the  narrow  way.  What  though  it  be  strait  and 
narrow ;  you  are  not  to  walk  in  it  forever.  A  few 
short  yeai's  of  fidelity  will  end  the  toilsome  pilgrim- 
age ;  and  then  you  will  come  out  into  a  "  wealthy 
place."  We  might  tell  you  of  the  joys  of  the 
Christian  life  that  are  mingled  with  its  trials  and 
sorrows  even  here  upon  earth.  For,  this  race  to 
^A'hich  we  invite  you,  and  this  fight  to  which  we 
call  you,  have  their  own  peculiar,  solemn,  substan- 
tial joy.  And  even  their  sorrow  is  tinged  with 
glory.  In  a  higher,  truer  sense  than  Protesilaus  in 
the  poem  says  it  of  the  pagan  elysium,  we  may  say 


RELATED  TO  THE  FUTURE.         355 

even  of  the  Christian  race,  and  the  Cliristiau  fight, 

"Calm  pleasures  Uiero  abide — majestic  pains.''''  ' 

But  we  do  not  care,  at  this  point,  to  influence 
you  by  a  consideration  of  the  amount  of  enjoyment, 
in  this  life,  which  you  will  derive  from  a  close  and 
humble  Avalk  with  God.  We  prefer  to  put  the  case 
in  its  baldest  form, — in  the  aspect  in  which  we  find 
it  in  our  text.  We  will  say  nothing  at  all  about 
the  hap23iness  of  a  Christian  life,  here  in  time.  We 
Avill  talk  only  of  its  tribulations.  We  will  only 
say,  as  in  the  parable,  that  there  are  "  evil  things  " 
to  be  endui'ed  here  upon  earth,  in  return  for  which 
we  shall  have  "  2;ood  tliino;s  "  in  another  life.  There 
is  to  l)e  a  moderate  and  sober  use  of  this  world's 
goods ;  there  is  to  be  a  searching  sense  of  sin,  and 
an  humble  confession  of  it  before  God ;  there  is  to 
be  a  cross-bearing  every  day,  and  a  struggle  Avith 
indwelling  cori'uption.  These  will  cost  effort,  watch- 
fulness, and  earnest  prayer  for  Divine  assistance. 
We  do  not  invite  you  into  the  kingdom  of  God, 
without  telling  you  frankly  and  plainly  beforehand 
what  must  be  done,  and  what  must  be  suffered. 
But  having  told  you  this,  we  then  tell  you  with  the 
utmost  confidence  and  assurance,  that  )'"0U  will  be 
infinitely  repaid  for  your  choice,  if  you  take  yoiu- 
"  evil  things  "  in  this  life,  and  choose  your  "  good 
tilings  "  in  a  futui'e.  We  kno^v,  and  are  certain,  that 
this  light  affliction  which  endui'es  but  for  a  moment, 
in  comparison    with  the  infinite  duration  beyond 

'  WoEDSvvoKTU  :  Laodaiuia. 


356  THE   PRESETifT   LIFE    AS 

the  tomb,  will  work  out  a  far  more  exceeding  and 
eternal  weight  of  glory.  We  entreat  you  to  look 
no  longer  at  the  things  which  are  seen,  but  at  the 
things  which  are  not  seen  ;  for  the  things  that  are 
seen  are  temporal,  but  the  things  that  are  not  seen 
are  eternal. 

Learn  a  parable  from  a  wounded  soldier.  His 
limb  must  be  amputated,  for  mortification  and  gan- 
grene have  begun  their  work.  He  is  told  that  the 
surgical  operation,  which  will  last  a  half  hour, 
will  yield  him  twenty  or  forty  years  of  healthy  and 
active  life.  The  endurance  of  an  "  evil  thing,"  for 
a  few  moments,  will  result  in  the  possession  of  a 
"  good  thing,"  for  many  long  days  and  years.  He 
holds  out  the  limb,  and  suljmits  to  the  knife.  He 
accepts  the  inevital^le  conditions  under  which  he 
finds  himself.  He  is  resolute  and  stern,  in  order 
to  secure  a  great  good  in  the  future. 

It  is  the  practice  of  this  same  principle^  though 
not  in  the  use  of  the  same  kind  of  power,  that  we 
would  urge  upon  you.  Looh  up  to  God  for  grace 
and  lielp^  and  deliberately  forego  a  present  advan- 
tage, for  the  sake  of  something  infinitely  more  val- 
uable hereafter.  Do  not,  for  the  sake  of  the  tem- 
porary enjoyment  of  Dives,  lose  the  eternal  happi- 
ness of  Lazarus.  Katlier,  take  the  place,  and  ac- 
cept the  "  evil  things,"  of  the  beggar.  Looh  up  to 
God  for  grace  and  streugtli  to  do  it,  and  then  live 
a  life  of  contrition  for  sin,  and  faith  in  Chnst's 
blood.     Deny  yourself,  and  take  up  the  cross  daily. 


RELATED  TO  THE  FUTURE.         337 

Expect  your  happiness  hereafter.  Lay  up  your 
treasure  above.  Then,  in  the  deciding  day,  it  will 
be  said  of  you,  as  it  will  be  of  all  the  true  children 
of  God :  "  These  are  they  wdiich  came  out  of  great 
ti'il)ulation,  and  have  washed  their  robes,  and  made 
them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb." 

16* 


THE  EXERCISE  OF  MERCY  OPTIONAL  WITH  GOD. 


Romans  ix.  15. — "For  He  saith  to  Moses,  I  will  have  mercy  on  whom  I  will 
havo  merc}'',  and  I  will  have  compassion  on  whom  I  will  have  compassion." 


This  is  a  part  of  the  description  whicb  God  him- 
self gave  to  Moses,  of  His  own  nature  and  attributes. 
The  Hebrew  legislator  had  said  to  Jehovah :  ''  I 
beseech  thee  show  me  thy  glory."  He  desired  a 
clear  understanding:  of  the  character  of  that  Great 
Being,  under  whose  guidance  he  was  commissioned 
to  lead  the  people  of  Israel  into  the  promised  land. 
God  said  co  him  in  reply :  "  I  will  make  all  my 
goodness  pass  before  thee,  and  I  will  proclaim  the 
name  of  the  Lord  before  thee ;  and  I  will  be 
gracious  to  whom  I  will  be  gracious,  and  will  shew 
mercy  on  whom  I  will  shew  mercy."  ^ 

By  this,  God  revealed  to  Moses,  and  through,  him 
to  all  mankind,  the  fact  that  He  is  a  merciful  being, 
and  directs  attention  to  one  particular  characteristic 


'  Compare,  also,  the  very  fall  This  is  the  more  noteworthy,  as 

aniionncement  of  mercy  as  a  Di-  it  occurs  in   conuectiou  witii  the 

vine  attribute  that  was  to  be  ex-  giving  of  the  law. 
ercised,  in  Exodus   xxxiv.  6,  7. 


THE  EXERCISE  OF  MEECY.  359 

of  mercy.  Wliile  informing  His  servant,  that  He 
is  gracious  and  clement  towards  a  penitent  trans- 
gressor, He  at  the  same  time  teaches  him  that  He 
is  under  no  obligation,  or  necessity,  to  shew  mercy. 
Grace  is  not  a  debt.  "  I  will  have  mercy  on  whom 
I  XDill  have  mercy,  and  I  will  have  compassion  on 
whom  I  icill  have  compassion." 

The  apostle  Paul  quotes  this  declaration,  to 
shut  the  mouth  of  him  who  would  set  up  a  claim 
to  salvation ;  who  is  too  proud  to  Ijeg  for  it, 
and  accept  it  as  a  free  and  unmerited  favor  from 
God.  In  so  doing,  he  endorses  the  sentiment. 
The  inspiration  of  his  Epistle  corroborates  that 
of  the  Pentateuch,  so  tliat  we  have  assurance 
made  doubly  sure,  that  this  is  the  correct  enuncia- 
tion of  the  nature  of  mercy.  Let  us  look  into  this 
hoj)e-inspiring  attribute  of  God,  under  the  guidance 
of  this  text. 

The  great  question  that  presses  upon  the  human 
mind,  from  age  to  age,  is  the  inquiry  :  Is  God  a 
merciful  Being,  and  will  He  show  mercy  ?  Living 
as  we  do  under  the  light  of  Kevelation,  we  know 
little  of  the  doubts  and  fears  that  spontaneously 
rise  in  the  guilty  human  soul,  when  it  is  left  solely 
to  tlie  light  of  nature  to  answer  it.  With  the  Bible 
in  our  hands,  and  hearing  the  good  news  of  Iledenq> 
tion  from  our  eai'liest  years,  it  seems  to  be  a  matter 
of  course  that  the  Deity  should  pardon  sin.  Tsay, 
a  certain  class  of  men  in  Christendom  seem  to  have 
come  to  the  opinion  that  it  is  more  difficult  topi'ove 


3 GO  TUE    EXERCISE    OF   MERCY  • 

that  God  is  just,  than  to  prove  that  He  is  merciful.^ 
But  this  is  not  the  thought  and  feeling  of  man  when 
outside  of  the  pale  of  Kevelation.  Go  into  the  an- 
cient pagan  world,  examine  the  theologizing  of  the 
Greek  and  Roman  mind,  and  you  will  discover  that 
the  fears  of  the  justice  far  outnumbered  the  hopes 
of  the  mercy ;  that  Plato  and  Plutarch  and  Cicero 
and  Tacitus  were  far  more  certain  that  God  would 
punish  sin,  than  that  He  would  pardon  it.  This  is 
the  reason  that  there  is  no  light,  or  joy,  in  any  of 
the  pagan  religious.  Except  when  religion  was 
converted  into  the  worship  of  Beauty,  as  in  the  in 
stance  of  the  later  Greek,  and  all  the  solemn  and 
truthful  ideas  of  law  and  justice  were  eliminated 
from  it,  every  one  of  the  natural  religions  of  the 
globe  is  filled  with  sombre  and  gloomy  hues,  and 
no  others.  The  truest  and  best  religions  of  the 
ancient  world  were  always  the  stei'nest  and  saddest, 
because  the  unaided  human  mind  is  certain  that 

>  Their  creed  lives  in  tlie  satire     and  piintjeney  now,  as  it  was  one 
of  YoTTNG  (Universal  Passion.  Sat-     hundred  years  ago. 
ire  VI.), — as  full  of  sense,  truth, 

"  From  atheists  far,  they  steadfastly  believe 
God  is,  and  is  Almighty — to  forgive. 
His  other  excellence  tliey'll  not  dispute  ; 
But  mercy,  sure,  is  His  cliief  attribute. 
Shall  pleasures  of  a  short  duration  chain 
A  lady's  soul  in  everlasting-  pain  ? 
Will  the  great  Author  us  poor  worms  destroy, 
For  now  and  then  a  sip  of  transient  joy  ? 
No,  He's  forever  in  a  smiling  niood  ; 
He's  like  themselves  :   or  how  could  He  be  good  ? 
And  they  blaspheme,  who  blacker  scliemes  sujfpose. 
Devoutly,  thus,  Jehovah  they  depose, 
The  Pure!  the  Just!  and  set  up  in  His  stead, 
A  deity  that's  perfectly  well-bred.'' 


OPTIONAL    WITH    GOD.  361 

God  is  just,  l)ut  is  not  certain  that  He  is  merciful. 
When  man  is  outside  of  Revelation,  it  is  by  no 
means  a  matter  of  course  that  God  is  clement,  and 
that  sin  shall  be  forgiven.  Great  uncertainty  over- 
hangs the  doctrine  of  the  Divine  mercy,  from  the 
position  of  natural  religion,  and  it  is  only  within 
the  province  of  revealed  truth  that  the  uncertainty 
is  removed.  Apart  from  a  distinct  and  direct 
promise  from  the  lips  of  God  Himself  that  He  will 
forgive  sin,  no  human  creature  can  be  sure  that  sin 
will  ever  be  forgiven.  Let  us,  therefore,  look  into 
the  suV)ject  carefully,  and  see  the  reason  why  man, 
if  left  to  himself  and  his  spontaneous  reflections, 
doubts  whether  there  is  mercy  in  the  Holy  One 
for  a  transgressor,  and  fears  that  there  is  none,  and 
why  a  special  revelation  is  consequently  required,  to 
dispel  the  doubt  and  the  fear. 

The  reason  lies  in  the  fact,  implied  in  the  text, 
that  the  exercise  of  justice  is  necessary,  wliile  that  of 
mercy  is  optional.  "  I  will  have  mercy  on  whom  I 
please  to  have  mercy,  and  I  will  have  compassion  on 
whom  1  please  to  have  compassion."  It  is  a  prin- 
ciple inlaid  in  the  structure  of  the  human  soul,  that 
the  transc-ression  of  law  must  be  visited  with  retri- 
bution.  The  pagan  conscience,  as  well  as  the  Chris- 
tian, testifies  that  "  the  soul  that  sinneth  it  shall 
die."  There  is  no  need  of  quoting  from  pagan  j)hi- 
losophers  to  prove  this.  We  should  be  compelled 
to  cite  page  after  page,  should  we  enter  upon  the 
documentary  evidence.     Take  such  a  tract,  for  ex- 


362  THE    EXERCISE    OF   MERCY 

ample,  as  that  of  Plutarch,  upon  what  he  denomi 
nates  "  the  slow  vengeance  of  the  Deity ;  "  read  the 
reasons  which  he  assigns  for  the  apparent  delay,  in 
this   world,  of  the  infliction  of  punishment   upon 
transgressors  ;  and  you  will  perceive  that  the  human 
mind,  when  left  to  its  candid  and  unbiassed  con- 
victions, is  certain  that   God  is  a  holy  Being  and 
will  visit  iniquity  with  penalty.     Throughout  this 
entire  treatise,  composed  by  a  man  who  probably 
never  saw  the  Scriptures  of  either  the  New  or  the 
Old  Dispensation,  there  runs  a  solemn   and  deep 
consciousness  that  the  Deity  is  necessarily  obliged, 
by  the  principles  of  justice,  to  mete  out  a  retribu- 
tion to  the  violator  of  law.     Plutarch   is  engaged 
with  the  very  same  question  that  the  apostle  Peter 
takes  up,  in   his   second  Epistle,  when  he  answers 
the  objection  of'the  scoffer  who  asks  :  Where  is  the 
promise  of  God's  coming  in  judgment  ?     The  apos- 
tle replies  to  it,  by  saying  that  for  the  Eternal  Mind 
one  day  is  as  a  thousand  years,  and  a  thousand  years 
as  one   day,  and  that  therefore  "the  Lord   is   not 
slack  concerning  His  2:)romise,  as  some  men  count 
slackness;"  and  Plutarch  answers  it  in  a  different 
manner,  but  assumes  and  affirms  with  the  same 
positiveness  and  certainty  that  the  vengeance  will 
idtimately  come.     No   reader  of  this  treatise  can 
doubt  for  a  moment,  that  its  author  believed  in  the 
future  punishment  of  the  wicked, — and  in  the  future 
endless  punishment  of  the  incorrigibly  wicked,  be- 
cause there  is  not  the  slightest  hint  or  expectation 


OPTIONAL    WITH    GOD. 


863 


of  any  exercise  of  mercy,  on  the  part  of  this  Divinity 
whose  vengeance,  though  slow,  is  sure  and  inevita- 
ble.^ Some  theorists  tell  us  that  the  doctrine  of 
endless  punishment  contradicts  the  instincts  of  the 
natural  reason,  and  that  it  has  no  foundation  in  the 
constitution  of  the  human   soul.     We  invite  them 


*  Plutarch  su])pose9  a  form  of 
pnnislimeiit  in  the  future  world 
that  is  disciplinary.  If  it  accom- 
plishes its  purpose,  the  soul  goes 
into  Elysium, — a  doctrine  like 
that  of  ])ur<;atory  in  the  Papal 
scheme.  But  in  case  the  person 
proves  incorrigible,  his  sutfering 
is  endless.  He  represents  an  in- 
dividual as  ]ia\ing  been  restored 
to  life,  aiul  giving  an  account  of 
what  he  had  seen.  Among  otiier 
things,  lie  '*  informed  his  friend, 
how  that  Adrastia,  the  daugliter 
of -Jupiter  and  Necessity,  was  seat- 
ed in  tiie  higliest  place  of  all,  to 
punish  all  manner  of  crimes  and 
enormities,  and  that  in  tlie  whole 
nnml)erof  the  wicked  and  ungod- 
ly tiiere  never  was  any  one, 
wiiether  great  or  little,  iiigh  or 
low,  rich  or  poor,  that  could  ever 
by  force  or  cunning  escajie  tlio 
severe  lasiies  of  iier  rigor.  But 
as  there  are  three  sorts  of  punish- 
ment, so  tliere  are  three  several 
Furies,  or  female  ministers  of  Jus- 
tice, and  to  every  one  of  these 
belongs  a  peculiar  ottice  and  de- 
gree of  punishment.  Tiie  first  of 
these  was  called  Unt;»}  or  Pain; 
whose  executions  are  swift  and 
speedy  upon  those  that  are  pres- 
ently to  receive  bodily  punish- 
ment in  this  life,  and  which  she 
manages  after  a  more  gentle  man- 
ner, omitting  tiie  correction  of 
sligiit  otl'i'iices,  which  need  but 
little  ex|)iation.  But  if  the  cure 
of  impiety  re<]Hire  a  greater  labor, 
the    Deity    delivers    those,    after 


death,  to  ^inr]  or  Vengeance.  But 
when  Vengeance  has  given  them 
over  as  altogetiicr  incnrahle,  thea 
the  third  and  most  severe  of  all 
Adrastia's  ministers,  'Epivic;  or 
Fnry,  takes  tliem  in  hand,  and 
after  slie  has  (;iiased  and  coursed 
them  from  one  place  to  another, 
flying  yet  not  knowing  where  to 
fly  for  siielter  and  relief,  plagued 
and  tormented  with  a  thousand 
miseries,  she  ])lunges  them  head- 
long into  an  invisible  abyss,  tiie 
hideousness  of  which  no  tongue 
can  exjiress  "  PuiTAUcn:  Mor- 
als, Vol.  IV.  p.  210.  £d.  1694. 
Plato  ((lorgias  525.  c.  d.  Ed. 
Bip.  IV.  169)  represents  Socratea 
as  teaching  that  those  who  "  have 
committed  the  most  extreme 
wickedness,  and  have  become  in- 
curable through  such  crimes,  are 
made  an  example  to  others,  and 
sutFer  forever  (-dffjovraf  tuv  ad 
Xpovuv)  the  greatest,  most  agoniz- 
ing, and  most  dreadful  punish- 
ment." And  Socrates  a<ld3 
that  "Homor  (Odyssey  xi.  575) 
also  bears  witness  to  this;  for  he 
represents  kings  and  potentates, 
Tantalus,  Sysiphus,  and  Tityus, 
as  ijeing  tormented  forever  io 
Hades"  (t'l'  oiSov  riv  ael  xpuvov  r<- 
/luiMviumr). — In  the  Aztec  or  Mex- 
ican theology,  "the  wicked,  com- 
jirehending  the  greater  part  of 
mankind,  were  to  expiate  their 
sin  in  a  place  of  everlasting  dark- 
ness." Prkscott  :  Conquest  of 
Mexico,  Vol.  I.  p.  62. 


364  THE   EXERCISE    OF   MERCY 

to  read  and  ponder  well,  the  speculations  of  one  of 
the  most  thoughtful  of  pagans  upon  this  subject, 
and  tell  us  if  they  see  any  streaks  or  rays  of  light 
in  it ;  if  they  see  any  inkling,  any  jot  or  tittle,  of 
the  doctrine  of  the  Divine  pity  there.  We  challenge 
them  to  discover  in  this  tract  of  Plutarch  the  sli2:ht- 
est  token,  or  sign,  of  the  Divine  mercy.  The  author 
believes  in  a  hell  for  the  wicked,  and  an  elysium 
for  the  good  ;  but  those  who  go  to  hell  go  there 
upon  principles  oi  justice,  and  those  who  go  to  ely- 
sium go  there  upon  the  same  principles.  It  is  jus- 
tice that  must  place  men  in  Tartarus,  and  it  is  jus- 
tice that  must  place  them  in  Elysium.  In  pagan- 
ism, men  must  earn  their  heaven.  The  idea  of 
mercy, — of  clemency  towards  a  transgressor,  of  pity 
towards  a  criminal, — is  entirely  foreign  to  the 
thoughts  of  Plutarch,  so  far  as  they  can  be  gathered 
from  this  tract.  It  is  the  clear  and  terrible  doctrine 
of  the  pagan  sage,  that  unless  a  man  can  make  good 
his  claim  to  eternal  happiness  upon  the  ground  of 
law  and  justice, — unless  he  merits  it  by  good 
works, — there  is  no  hope  for  him  in  the  other 
world. 

The  idea  of  a  forgiving  and  tender  mercy  in  the 
Sujireme  Being,  exercised  towards  a  creature  whom 
justice  would  send  to  eternal  retribution,  nowhere 
appears  in  the  best  pagan  ethics.  And  why  should 
it  ?  What  evidence  or  proof  has  the  human  mind, 
apart  from  the  revelations  made  to  it  in  the  Old 
and  New  Testaments,  that  God  will  ever  forgive 


OPTIONAL    WITH    GOD.  365 

sin,  or  ever  sliow  mercy  ?  In  thinking  npon  tLe 
su>)ject,  our  reason  perceives,  intuitively,  that  God 
must  of  necessity  punish  transgression  ;  and  it  per- 
ceives with  equal  intuitiveness  that  there  is  no  cor- 
responding necessity  that  lie  should  pardon  it.  We 
say  with  confidence  and  positiveness  :  "  God  must 
be  just;"  but  we  cannot  say  with  any  certainty 
or  confidence  at  all :  "  God  must  be  merciful." 
The  Divine  mercy  is  an  attribute  which  is  per- 
fectly free  and  optional,  in  its  exercises,  and 
therefore  we  cannot  tell  beforehand  whether  it 
will  or  will  not  be  shown  to  transo;ressors.  We 
know  nothing  at  all  about  it,  until  we  hear  some 
word  from  the  lips  of  God  Himself  upon  the  point. 
When  lie  opens  the  heavens,  and  speaks  in  a  clear 
tone  to  the  human  race,  saying,  "  I  will  forgive  your 
iniquities,"  then,  and  not  till  then,  do  they  know 
the  fact.  In  reference  to  all  those  procedures  which, 
like  the  punishment  of  transgression,  are  fixed  and 
necessary,  because  they  are  founded  in  the  eternal 
principles  of  law  and  justice,  we  can  tell  beforehand 
what  the  Divine  method  will  be.  We  do  not  need 
any  special  revelation,  to  inform  us  that  God  is  a 
just  Being,  and  that  His  anger  is  kindled  against 
wickedness,  and  that  He  will  punish  the  transgress- 
or. This  class  of  truths,  the  Apostle  informs  us, 
are  written  in  the  human  constitution,  and  we  have 
already  seen  that  they  were  known  and  dreaded  in 
the  pagan  world.  That  which  God  mast  do,  He 
certainly  will  do.     He  must  be  just,  and  therefore 


806 


THE    EXERCISE    OF   MERCY 


He  certainly  will  punish  sin,  is  the  reasoning  of  the 
human  mind,  the  world  over,  and  in  every  age.-' 

But,  when  we  pass  from  the  punishment  of  sin 
to  the  pardon  of  it,  when  we  go  over  to  the  merci- 
ful side  of  the  Divine  Nature,  we  can  come  to  no 
certain  conclusions,  if  we  are  shut  up  to  the  work- 
ings of  our  own  minds,  or  to  the  teachings  of  the 
world  of  nature  about  us.  Picture  to  yourself  a 
thoughtful  pagan,  like  Solon  the  legislator  of 
Athens,  livino;  in  the  heart  of  heathenism  five  cen- 
turies  before  Clirist,  and  knowing  nothing  of  the 
promise  of  mercy  which  broke  faintly  through  the 
heavens  immediately  after  the  apostasy  of  the  first 
human  pair,  and  which  found  its  full  and  victorious 
utterance  in  the  streaming  blood  of  Calvary.    Sup- 


*  It  may  he  objected,  at  this 
point,  tlijit  mercy  also  is  a  neces- 
■6;\vy  attribute  in  God,  like  justice 
itself. — that  it  necessarily  belongs 
to  the  nature  of  a  perfect  Being, 
find  tiierefore  might  be  inferred 
a  priori  by  the  pagan,  like  other 
attributes.  Thisistrue;  hut  the 
objeciion  overlooks  the  distinc- 
tion between  tiie  existence  of  an 
attribute  and  its  exercise.  Om- 
nipotence necessarily  belongs  to 
the  idea  of  the  Supreme  Being, 
but  it  does  not  follow  tliat  it  must 
necessarily  1)6  exerted  in  act.  Be- 
cause God  is  able  to  create  the 
universe  of  matter  and  mind,  it 
does  not  follow  tliat  he  mvst 
create  it.  The  doctrine  of  the 
necessity  of  cn-eatioti,  thongb  held 
in  a  few  instances  by  tlieists  who 
seem  not  to  have  discerned  its 
logical  consequences,  is  virtually 
putitheistic.    Had  God  been  pleas- 


ed to  dwell  forever  in  the  self- 
sufficiency  of  His  Trinity,  and 
never  called  tlie  Finite  into  exist- 
ence from  nothing,  He  might  have 
done  so,  and  He  would  still  have 
been  omnipotent  and  "blessed 
forever."  In  like  manner,  the 
attribute  of  mercy  might  exist  in 
God,  and  yet  not  be  exerted. 
Had  He  been  pleased  to  treat  the 
liuman  race  as  He  did  the  fallen 
angels,  He  was  perfectly  at  lib- 
erty to  do  so,  and  the  number 
and  quality  of  his  immanent  at- 
tributes would  have  been  the 
same  that  they  are  now.  But 
justice  is  an  attribute  which  not 
cnly  exists  of  necessity,  but  must 
be  exercised  of  necessity  ;  because 
not  to  exercise  it  would  be  injus- 
tice.— For  a  fuller  exposition  of 
the  nature  of  justice,  see  Siiedd: 
Discourses  and  Essays,  pp.  291- 
300. 


OPTIONAL    WITH    GOD.  3G7 

pose  that  tlie  accusing  and  condemning  law  written 
upon  his  conscience  had  shown  its  work,  and  made 
him  conscious  of  sin.  Suppose  that  the  question 
had  risen  within  him,  wliether  that  Dread  Beinsr 
whom  he  "ignorantly  worshipped,"  and  against 
wliom  lie  had  committed  the  offence,  would  for 
give  it ;  was  there  anything  in  his  own  soul,  was 
there  anything  in  the  world  around  him  or  above 
him,  that  could  give  him  an  affirmative  answer  ? 
The  instant  he  put  the  question :  Will  God  punisli 
me  for  my  transgression  ?  the  affirming  voices  were 
instantaneous  and  authoritative.  "The  soul  that 
sinneth  it  shall  die"  was  the  verdict  that  came 
forth  from  the  recesses  of  his  moral  nature,  and 
was  echoed  and  re-echoed  in  the  suffering,  pain,  and 
physical  death  of  a  miserable  and  groaning  world 
all  around  him.  But  when  he  put  the  other 
question  to  himself:  AVill  the  Deity  'pardon  me 
for  my  transgression  ?  there  was  no  affirmative 
answer  from  any  source  of  knowledge  accessible  to 
him.  If  he  sought  a  reply  from  the  depths  of  his 
own  conscience,  all  that  he  could  hear  was  the  ter- 
rible utterance:  "The  soul  that  sinneth  it  shall 
die."  The  human  conscience  can  no  more  promise, 
or  certify,  the  forgiveness  of  sin,  than  the  ten  com- 
mandments can  do  so.  When,  therefore,  this  pa- 
can,  convicted  of  sin,  seeks  a  comfortino;  answer  to 
his  anxious  inquiry  respecting  the  Divine  clemency 
towards  a  criminal,  he  is  met  only  with  retributive 
thunders  and  lightnings ;  he  hears  only  that  accus- 


368  THE    EXERCISE    OF   MERCY 

ino*  and  condemnino:  law  which  is  written  on  the 
heart,  and  experiences  that  fearful  looking-for  of 
judgment  and  fiery  indignation  which  St.  Paul 
describes,  in  the  first  chapter  of  Romans,  as  work- 
ing in  the  mind  of  the  universal  pagan  world. 

But  we  need  not  go  to  Solon,  and  the  pagan 
world,  for  evidence  upon  this  subject.  Why  is  it 
that  a  convicted  man  under  the  full  lio-ht  of  the 
gospel,  and  with  the  unambiguous  and  explicit 
promise  of  God  to  forgive  sins  ringing  in  his  ears, 
— Avhy  is  it,  that  even  under  these  favorable  cir- 
cumstances a  guilt-smitten  man  finds  it  so  difiicult 
to  believe  that  there  is  mercy  for  him,  and  to  trust 
in  it  ?  Nay,  why  is  it  that  he  finds  it  impossible 
fully  to  believe  that  Jehovah  is  a  sin-pardoning 
God,  unless  he  is  enabled  so  to  do  by  the  Holy 
Ghost  ?  It  is  because  he  knows  that  God  is  under 
a  necessity  of  punishing  his  sin,  but  is  under  no 
necessity  of  pardoning  it.  The  very  same  judicial 
principles  are  operating  in  his  mind  that  operate 
in  that  of  a  pagan  Solon,  or  any  other  transgressor 
outside  of  the  revelation  of  mercy.  That  which 
holds  back  the  convicted  sinner  from  castins;  him- 
self  upon  the  Divine  pity  is  the  perception  that 
God  must  be  just.  This  fact  is  certain,  whether 
anything  else  is  certain  or  not.  And  it  is  not  un- 
til he  perceives  that  God  can  be  both  just  and  the 
justifier  of  him  that  believeth  in  Jesus;  it  is  not 
until  he  sees  that,  throufrh  the  substituted  suflfer- 
ings  of  Christ,  God  can  punish  sin  while  at  the 


OPTIONAL    WITH    GOD.  369 

same  time  He  pardons  it, — -can  punish  it  in  tbe 
Substitute  while  He  pardons  it  in  the  sinner, — it 
is  not  until  he  is  enabled  to  apprehend  the  doc- 
trine of  vicarious  atonement,  that  his  doubts  and 
fears  respecting  the  possibility  and  reality  of  the 
Divine  mercy  are  removed.  The  instant  he  dis- 
covers that  the  exercise  of  pardon  is  rendered  en- 
tirely consistent  with  the  justice  of  God,  by  the 
substituted  death  of  the  Son  of  God,  he  sees  the 
Divine  mercy,  and  that  too  in  the  high  form  of 
self-sacrifice ,  and  trusts  in  it,  and  is  at  peace. 

These  considerations  are  sufficient  to  show,  that 
according  to  the  natural  and  spontaneous  operar 
tions  of  the  human  intellect,  justice  stands  in  the 
way  of  the  exercise  of  mercy,  and  that  therefore,  if 
man  is  not  informed  by  Divine  Revelation  respect- 
ing this  latter  attril)ute,  he  can  never  acquire  the 
certainty  that  God  will  forgive  his  sin.  There  are 
two  very  important  and  significant  inferences  from 
this  truth,  to  which  Ave  now  ask  serious  attention. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  those  who  deny  the  credi- 
bility, and  Divine  authority,  of  the  Scriptures  of 
the  Old  and  New  Testaments  shut  up  the  tvhole 
world  to  doubt  and  despair.  For,  unless  God  has 
spoken  the  word  of  mercy  in  this  written  Revela- 
tion, lie  has  not  spoken  it  anywhere ;  and  we 
liave  seen,  that  unless  lie  has  spoken  such  a  mer- 
ciful word  somewhere^  no  human  transgressor  can  be 
certain  of  anything  but  stark  unmitigated  justice 
and  retribution.     Do  you  tell  us  that  God  is  too 


370  THE   EXERCISE    OF   MERCY 

good  to  puiiisli  men,  and  that  therefore  it  must  be 
that  He  is  merciful  ?  We  tell  you,  in  reply,  that 
God  is  good  when  He  punishes  sin,  and  your  own 
conscience,  like  that  of  Plutarch,  re-echoes  the  reply. 
Sin  is  a  wicked  thing,  and  when  the  Holy  One 
visits  it  with  retribution,  He  is  manifestino;  the 
purest  moral  excellence  and  the  most  immaculate 
perfection  of  character  that  we  can  conceive  of. 
But  if  by  goodness  you  mean  mercy,  then  we  say 
that  this  is  the  very  point  in  dispute,  and  you  must 
not  beg  the  point  but  must  prove  it.  And  now, 
if  you  den}^  the  authority  and  credibility  of  the 
Scriptures  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  we  ask 
you  upon  what  ground  you  venture  to  affirm  that 
God  will  pardon  man's  sin.  You  cannot  demon- 
strate it  upon  imj  a  priori  and  necessary  principles. 
You  cannot  show  that  the  Deity  is  obligated  to 
remit  the  penalty  due  to  transgression.  You  can 
prove  the  necessity  of  the  exercise  of  justice,  but 
you  cannot  prove  the  necessity  of  the  exercise  of 
mercy.  It  is  purely  optional  with  God,  whether 
to  pardon  or  not.  If,  therefore,  you  cannot  estab- 
lish the  fact  of  the  Divine  clemency  l)y  a  j)^'ioi'i 
reasoning, — if  you  cannot  make  out  a  necessity  for 
the  exercise  of  mercy, — you  must  betake  yourself 
to  the  only  other  method  of  proof  that  remains  to 
you,  the  method  of  testimony.  If  you  have  the 
declaration  and  promise  of  God,  that  He  will  for- 
give iniquity,  transgression,  and  sin,  you  may  be 
certain  of  the  fact, — as  certain  as  you  would  be, 


OPTIONAL    WITH    GOD.  371 

could  you  prove  the  absolute  necessity  of  the  ex- 
ercise of  mercy.  For  God's  promise  ciiiuot  be 
broken.  God's  testimony  is  sure.  But,  l)y  the 
supposition,  you  deny  that  this  declaration  has 
been  made,  and  this  promise  has  been  uttered,  in 
the  written  Revelation  of  the  Christian  Church. 
Where  then  do  you  send  me  for  the  information, 
and  the  testimony  ?  Have  you  a  private  revelation 
of  your  own  ?  Has  the  Deity  spoken  to  you  in 
particulai',  and  told  you  that  He  .will  forgive  your 
sin,  and  my  sin,  and  that  of  all  the  generations? 
Unless  this  declaration  has  been  made  either  to 
you  or  to  some  other  one,  we  have  seen  that  you 
cannot  establish  the  certaintij  that  God  will  for- 
give sin.  It  is  a  purely  optional  matter  with  Him, 
and  "whether  He  will  or  no  depends  entirely  upon 
His  decision,  determination,  and  declai-atlon.  If 
He  says  that  He  will  pardon  sin,  it  \y\\\  certainly 
be  done.  But  until  He  says  it,  you  and  eveiy 
other  man  nuist  l)e  remanded  to  the  inexorable 
decisions  of  conscience  which  thunder  out:  "The 
scml  that  sinneth  it  shall  die."  AVhoever,  there- 
fore, denies  that  God  in  the  Scriptures  of  the  Old 
and  N('\v  Testaments  has  broken  throu^-h  the  vei] 
tliat  hides  eternity  from  time,  and  has  testified  to 
the  human  race  that  He  will  forgive  sin,  and  has 
solemnly  promised  to  do  so,  takes  away  from  the 
liunian  race  the  only  ground  of  certainty  which 
they  possess,  tliat  there  is  ]nty  in  the  lieavens,  and 
that  it  will  l)e  shown  to  sinful  creatui'es  like  them- 


372  THE    EXERCISE    OF   MERCY 

selves.  But  this  is  to  shut  them  up  again,  to  the 
doubt  aud  hopelessness  of  the  pagan  world, — a 
world  without  Revelation. 

2.  In  the  second  place,  it  follows  from  this  sub- 
ject, that  mankind  must  take  the  declaration  and 
promise  of  God^  respecting  the  exercise  of  mercy ^ 
'precisely  as  He  has  given  it.  They  must  follow 
the  record  implicitly.,  without  any  criticisms  or 
alterations.  Not  only  does  the  exercise  of  mercy 
depend  entirely  upon  the  will  and  pleasure  of  God, 
but,  the  mode,  the  conditions,  and  the  length  of 
time  during  which  the  offer  shall  be  made,  are  all 
dependent  upon  the  same  sovereignty.  Let  us 
look  at  these  particulars  one  by  one. 

In  the  first  place,  the  metliod  by  which  the 
Divine  clemency  shall  be  manifested,  and  the  cori' 
ditions  upon  which  the  offer  of  forgiveness  shall  be 
made,  are  matters  that  rest  solely  with  God.  If  it 
is  entirely  optional  with  Him  whether  to  pardon 
at  all,  much  more  does  it  depend  entirely  upon 
Him  to  determine  the  way  and  means.  It  is  here 
that  we  stop  the  mouth  of  him  who  objects  to  the 
doctrine  of  forgiveness  through  a  vicarious  atone- 
ment. We  will  by  no  means  concede,  that  the  ex- 
hibition of  mercy  through  the  vicarious  satisfaction 
of  justice  is  an  optional  matter,  and  that  God 
might  have  dispensed  with  such  satisfaction,  had 
He  so  willed.  We  believe  that  the  forgiveness  of 
sin  is  possible  even  to  the  Deity,  only  through  a 
substituted   sacrifice  that  completely  satisfies   the 


OPTIONAL    WITH    GOD.  373 

demands  of  law  and  justice, — that  without  the 
shedding  of  expiating  blood  there  is  no  remission 
of  sin  possible  or  conceivable,  under  a  government 
of  law.  But,  without  asking  the  objector  to  come 
up  to  this  high  ground,  we  are  willing,  for  the  sake 
of  the  argument,  to  go  down  upon  his  low  one ;  and 
we  say,  that  even  if  the  metaphysical  necessity  of  an 
atonement  could  not  be  maintained,  and  that  it  is 
purely  optional  with  God  whether  to  employ  this 
method  or  not,  it  would  still  be  the  duty  and  wis- 
d(jm  of  man  to  take  the  record  just  as  it  reads, 
and  to  accept  the  method  that  has  actually  been 
adopted.  If  the  Sovereign  has  a  perfect  right  to 
say  whether  He  w^ill  or  will  not  pardon  the  crimi- 
nal, has  He  not  the  same  risrht  to  sav  liow  He  will 
do  it?  If  the  transgressor,  upon  principles  of  jus- 
tice, could  be  sentenced  to  endless  misery,  and  yet 
the  Sovereign  Judge  concludes  to  offer  him  forgive- 
ness and  eternal  life,  shall  the  criminal,  the  culprit 
who  could  not  stand  an  instant  in  the  judgment, 
presume  to  quarrel  with  the  method,  and  dictate 
the  terms  by  which  his  own  pardon  shall  be  se- 
cured ?  Even  supposing,  then,  that  there  were  no 
intrinsic  necessity  for  the  offering  of  an  infinite 
sacrifice  to  satisfy  infinite  justice,  the  Great  God 
might  still  take  the  lofty  ground  of  sovereignty, 
and  say  to  the  criminal :  "  My  will  shall  stand  for 
my  reason  ;  I  decide  to  offer  you  amnesty  and 
eternal  joy,  in   this  mode,  and  upon  these    terms. 

The  reasons  for  my  method  are  known  to  myself. 

17 


374  THE   EXEECISE    OF   MERCY 

Take  mercy  in  this  metliod,  or  take  justice.  Re- 
ceive the  forgiveness  of  sin  in  this  mode,  or  else 
receive  the  eternal  and  just  punishment  of  sin. 
Can  I  not  do  what  I  will  with  mine  own  ?  Is 
thine  eye  evil  because  I  am  good  ? "  God  is  under 
no  necessity  to  offer  the  forgiveness  of  sin  to  any 
criminal  upon  any  terms;  still  less  is  He  hedged  up 
to  a  method  of  forgiveness  prescribed  by  the  crimi- 
nal himself. 

Again,  the  same  reasoning  will  apply  to  the 
time  during  lohich  the  offer  of  mercy  shall  he  ex- 
tended. If  it  is  purely  optional  with  God,  whether 
He  will  j)ardon  my  sin  at  all,  it  is  also  purely 
optional  with  Him  to  fix  the  limits  within  which 
He  will  exercise  the  act  of  pardon.  Should  He 
tell  me,  that  if  I  would  confess  and  forsake  my 
sins  to-day,  He  would  Idot  them  out  forevei',  but 
that  the  gracious  offer  should  be  withdrawn  to- 
morrow, what  conceivable  ground  of  complaint 
could  I  discover?  He  is  under  no  necessity  of 
extending  the  pardon  at  this  moment,  and  neither 
is  He  at  the  next,  or  any  future  one.  Mercy  is 
grace,  and  not  debt.  Now  it  has  pleased  God,  to 
limit  the  period  during  which  the  work  of  Re- 
demption shall  go  on.  There  is  a  point  of  time, 
for  eveiy^  sinful  man,  at  which  '•  there  remaineth 
no  more  sacrifice  for  sin"  (Heb.  x.  26).  The 
period  of  Redemption  is  confined  to  earth  and 
time  ;  and  unless  the  sinner  exercises  repentance 
towards  God  and  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 


OPTIONAL    WITH    GOD.  875 

before  his  spirit  returns  to  God  who  gave  it,  there 
is  no  redemption  for  him  through  eternal  ages. 
This  fact  we  know  by  the  declaration  and  testi- 
mony of  God  ;  in  the  same  manner  that  we  know 
that  God  will  exercise  mercy  at  all,  and  upon  any 
conditions  whatever.  We  have  seen  that  we  cannot 
establish  the  fact  that  the  Deity  will  forgive  sin, 
by  SLuy  a  pi'iof'i  reasoning,  but  know  it  only  because 
He  has  spoken  a  word  to  this  effect,  and  given  the 
woi'ld  His  promise  to  be  gracious  and  merciful. 
In  like  manner,  we  do  not  establish  the  fact  that 
there  will  ]»e  no  second  offer  of  forgiveness,  in  the 
future  world,  by  any  process  of  reasoning  from  the 
nature  of  the  case,  or  the  necessity  of  things.  We 
are  willing  to  concede  to  the  objector,  that  for 
aught  that  we  can  see  the  Holy  Ghost  is  as  able  to 
take  of  the  thino^s  of  Chi-ist,  and  show  them  to  a 
guilty  soul,  in  the  next  world,  as  He  is  in  this. 
So  far  as  almighty  power  is  concerned,  the  Divine 
Spirit  could  convince  men  of  sin,  and  I'ighteousness, 
and  judgment,  and  incline  them  to  repentance  and 
ftiith,  in  eternity  as  well  as  in  time.  And  it  is 
equally  true,  that  the  Divine  Spirit  could  have 
])revented  the  oriiin  of  sin  itself,  and  the  fall  of 
Adam,  with  the  untold  woes  that  proceed  there- 
fronu  But  it  is  not  a  question  of  power.  It  is  a 
question  of  intention,  of  determination,  and  of  testi- 
mony upon  the  part  of  God.  And  He  has  dis- 
tinctly declared  in  the  written  Revelation,  that  it 
is  His  intention  to  limit  the  converting  and  saving 


1/ 


376  THE   EXERCISE    OF    MERCY 

influences  of  His  Spirit  to  time  and  earth.  He  tells 
the  whole  world  uneqiiivT)cally,  that  His  spirit  shall 
not  always  strive  with  man,  and  that  the  day  of 
judgment  which  occurs  at  the  end  of  this  Dispensa- 
tion of  grace,  is  not  a  day  of  pardon  but  of  doom. 
Christ's  description  of  the  scenes  that  will  close  up 
this  Redemptive  Economy, — the  throne,  the  opened 
boohs,  the  sheep  on  the  right  hand  and  the  goats 
on  the  left  hand,  the  words  of  the  Judge :  "  Come 
ye  blessed,  depart  ye  cursed," — pi'oves  beyond  con- 
troversy that  "  now  is  the  accepted  time,  and  now 
is  the  day  of  salvation."  The  utterance  of  our  Re- 
deeming Grod,  by  His  servant  David,  is:  "  To-day 
if  ye  will  hear  His  voice  harden  not  your  hearts." 
St.  Paul,  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  informs  the 
world,  that  as  God  sware  that  those  Israelites  who 
did  not  believe  and  obey  His  servant  Moses,  during 
their  wanderings  in  the  desert,  should  not  enter  the 
earthly  Canaan,  so  those,  in  any  age  and  generation 
of  men,  who  do  not  believe  and  obey  His  Son  Jesus 
Christ,  during  their  earthly  pilgrimage,  shall,  by 
the  same  Divine  oath,  be  shut  out  of  the  eternal 
rest  that  remaineth  for  the  people  of  God  (Hebrews 
iii.  7-19).  Unbelieving  men,  in  eternity,  will  be 
deprived  of  the  benefits  of  Christ's  redemption,  by 
the  oath^  the  solemn  decision^  the  judicial  determi- 
nation of  God.  For,  this  exercise  of  mercy,  of 
which  we  are  speaking,  is  not  a  matter  of  course, 
and  of  necessity,  and  which  therefore  ccmtinues  for- 
ever and  forever.     It  is  optional.     God  is  entirely 


OPTIONAL    WITH    GOD.  37 Y 

at  liberty  to  pardon,  or  not  to  pardon.  And  He 
is  entirely  at  li))erty  to  say  wlien,  and  bow,  and 
liow  Jong  the  offer  of  pardon  shall  be  extended.  lie 
had  the  power  to  carry  the  whole  body  of  the  peo- 
ple of  Israel  over  Jordan,  into  the  2:)romised  land, 
but  He  svvare  that  those  Avho  proved  refractory, 
and  disobedient,  during  a  certain  definite  period  of 
tlme^  should  never  enter  Canaan.  And,  by  His 
'ipostle.  He  informs  all  the  generations  of  men,  that 
the  same  principle  will  govern  Him  in  respect  to 
the  entrance  into  the  heavenly  Canaan.  The  limit- 
ino;  of  the  offer  of  salvation  to  this  life  is  not 
founded  upon  an 3^  necessity  in  the  Divine  Nature, 
but,  like  the  offer  of  salvation  itself,  depends  upon 
tlie  sovereign  pleasure  and  determination  of  God. 
That  i)leasure,  and  that  determination,  have  been 
distinctly  made  known  in  the  Scriptures.  We  know 
as  clearly  as  we  know  anything  revealed  in  the  Bi- 
ble, that  God  has  decided  to  pardon  here  in  time, 
and  not  to  pardon  in  eternity.  He  has  drawn  a 
line  between  the  present  period,  during  which  He 
makes  salvation  possible  to  man,  and  the  future  pe- 
riod, when  He  will  not  make  it  possible.  And  He 
had  a  right  to  draw  that  line,  because  mercy  from 
lirst  to  last  is  the  optional,  and  not  the  obligated 
agency  of  the  Supreme  Being. 

Therefore,  fear  lest,  a  promise  being  left  us  of 
entering  into  His  rest,  any  of  you  should  seem  to 
come  short  of  it.  For  unto  you  is  the  gospel 
preached,  as  well  as  unto  those  Israelites ;  but  the 


378  THE  EXERCISE  OF  MERCY. 

word  did  not  profit  tliem,  not  being  mixed  with 
faitli  in  tliem  tliat  heard  it.  Neither  will  it  profit 
you,  unless  it  is  mixed  with  faith.  God  limiteth  a 
certain  day,  saying  in  David,  "  To-day^  after  so  long 
a  time," — after  these  many  years  of  hearing  and  ne- 
glecting the  ofifer  of  forgiveness, — "  to-day^  if  ye  will 
hear  His  voice,  harden  not  your  hearts."  Labor, 
therefore,  noiD^  to  enter  into  that  rest,  lest  any  man 
fall,  after  the  same  exam23le  of  unbelief,  with  those 
Israelites  whom  the  oath  of  God  shut  out  of  both 
the  earthly  and  the  heavenly  Canaan. 


CHRISTIANITY  REQUIRES  THE   TEMPER   OF   CHILDHOOD. 


Mark  x.  15. — "Verily  I  say  unto   you,  whosoever  shall  not  receive  tho 
kingdom  of  God  as  a  little  child,  he  shall  not  enter  therein." 


These  words  of  our  Lord  are  very  positive  and 
emphatic,  and  will,  therefore,  receive  a  serious  atten- 
tion from  every  one  who  is  anxious  concerning  his 
future  destiny  beyond  the  grave.  For,  they  men- 
tion an  indisjiensable  requisite  in  order  to  an  en- 
trance into  eternal  life.  "  Whosoever  shall  not 
receive  the  kingdom  of  God  as  a  little  child,  he 
shall  not  enter  therein.'" 

The  occasion  of  their  utterance  is  interesting, 
and  brings  to  view  a  beautiful  feature  in  the  per- 
fect character  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  Redeemer  was 
deeply  interested  in  every  age  and  condition  of 
man.  All  classes  shared  in  His  benevolent  affec- 
tion, and  all  may  equally  partake  of  the  rich  bless- 
ings that  flow  from  it.  But  childhood  and  youth 
seem  to  have  had  a  special  attraction  for  Him. 
The  Evangelist  is  careful  to  inform  us,  that  He 
took  little  children  in  His  arms,  and  that  behold- 
ing an  amiable  young  man  He  loved  him, — a  gush 


380  CHEISTIANITY    EEQUIEES 

of  feeling  went  out  towards  him.  It  was  because 
Christ  was  a  perfect  man,  as  w^ell  as  the  infinite 
God,  that  such  a  feeling  dwelt  in  His  breast.  Foi', 
there  has  never  been  an  uncommonly  fair  and 
excellent  human  character,  in  which  tenderness 
and  affinity  for  childhood  has  not  been  a  quality, 
and  a  quality,  too,  that  was  no  small  part  of  the 
fairness  and  excellence.  The  best  definition  that 
has  yet  been  given  of  genius  itself  is,  that  it  is  the 
carrying  of  the  feelings  of  childhood  onward  into 
the  thoughts  and  aspirations  of  manhood.  He  who 
is  not  attracted  by  the  ingenuousness,  and  trustful- 
ness, and  simplicity,  of  the  first  period  of  human 
life,  is  certainly  wanting  in  the  finest  and  most 
delicate  elements  of  nature,  and  character.  Those 
who  have  been  coarse  and  brutish,  those  who 
have  been  selfish  and  ambitious,  those  who  have 
been  the  pests  and  scourges  of  the  world,  have 
had  no  sympathy  with  youth.  Though  once  young 
themselves,  they  have  been  those  in  whom  the 
gentle  and  generous  emotions  of  the  morning  of 
life  have  died  out.  That  man  may  become  hard- 
hearted, skeptical  and  sensual,  a  hater  of  his  kind, 
a  hater  of  all  that  is  holy  and  good,  he  must 
divest  himself  entirely  of  the  fresh  and  ingenuous 
feeling  of  early  boyhood,  and  receive  in  its  place 
that  malign  and  soured  feeling  which  is  the  growth, 
and  sign,  of  a  selfish  and  disingenuous  life.  It  is 
related  of  Voltaire, — a  man  in  whom  evil  dwelt 
in  its  purest  and  most  defecated  essence, — that  he 


THE   TEMPEK    OF    CIlILDnOOD.  381 

had  no  sympathy  with  the  chihl,  and  that  the 
children  uniformly  shrank  from  that  sinister  eye 
in  wliich  the  eagle  and  the  reptile  were  so  strange- 
ly l)lended. 

Our  Saviour,  as  a  perfect  man,  then,  possessed 
this  trait,  and  it  often  showed  itself  in  His  inter- 
course with  men.  As  an  omniscient  Being,  He 
indeed  looked  with  profound  interest,  upon  the 
dawning  life  of  the  human  spirit  as  it  manifests 
itself  in  childhoorl.  For  He  knew  as  no  finite 
being  can,  the  marvellous  powers  that  sleep  in  the 
soul  of  the  young  cliild  ;  the  great  affections  which 
are  to  be  the  foundation  of  eternal  bliss,  or  eter- 
nal i>ain,  that  exist  in  embryo  within ;  the  myste- 
rious ideas  that  lie  in  germ  far  down  in  its  lowest 
depths, — He  knew,  as  no  finite  creature  is  able, 
what  is  in  the  child,  as  well  as  in  the  man,  and 
therefore  was  interested  in  its  being  and  its  well- 
being.  But  besides  this,  by  vn-tue  of  His  perfect 
humanity,  He  was  attracted  l)y  those  peculiar  ti-aits 
which  are  seen  in  the  earlier  years  of  human  life. 
He  loved  the  artlessness  and  gentleness,  the  sense 
of  dependence,  the  implicit  trust,  the  absence  of 
ostentation  and  ambition,  the  unconscious  modesty, 
in  one  word,  the  cliild-lilzen^ss  of  the  child. 

Knowino:  this  characteristic  of  the  Redeemer, 
certain  parents  brought  their  young  children  to 
Him,  as  the  Evangelist  informs  us,  "  that  He  should 
touch  them  ; "  either  believing  that  there  was  a 
healthful  virtue,  connected  with  the  touch  of  Him 


382  CHEISTIAlSriTY   REQUIRES 

who  healed  the  sick  and  gave  life  to  the  dead,  that 
would  be  of  benefit  to  them ;  or,  it  may  be,  with 
more  elevated  conceptions  of  Christ's  person,  and 
more  spiritual  desires  respecting  the  welfare  of  their 
offspring,  believing  that  the  blessing  (which  was 
symbolized  by  the  touch  and  laying  on  of  hands)  of 
so  exalted  a  Being  would  be  of  greater  worth  than 
mere  health  of  body.  The  disciples,  thinking  that 
mere  children  were  not  worthy  of  the  regards  of 
their  Master,  rebuked  the  anxious  and  affectionate 
parents.  "  But," — continues  the  narrative, — "  when 
Jesus  saw  it  he  was  much  displeased,  and  said  unto 
them.  Suffer  the  little  children  to  come  unto  me, 
and  forbid  them  not,  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of 
God ; "  and  then  immediately  explained  what  Pie 
meant  by  this  last  assertion,  which  is  so  often 
misunderstood  and  misapplied,  by  adding,  in  the 
words  of  the  text,  "Verily  I  say  unto  you,  whoso- 
ever shall  not  receive  the  hingdom  of  God  as  a  little 
cliild^''  that  is  with  a  child-like  spirit, "  he  shall  not 
enter  therein."  For  our  Lord  does  not  here  lay 
down  a  doctrinal  position,  and  affirm  the  moral 
innocence  of  childhood.  He  does  not  mark  of}'  and 
discriminate  the  children  as  sinless,  from  their  pa- 
rents as  sinful,  as  if  the  two  classes  did  not  belong 
to  the  same  race  of  beins^s,  and  were  not  involved 
in  the  same  apostasy  and  condemnation.  He 
merely  sets  childhood  and  manhood  over-against 
each  other  as  two  distinct  stages  of  human  life, 
each  possessing  peculiar  traits  and   tempers,  and 


THE    TEMPER    OF    CniLDHOOD.  383 

affirms  that  it  is  the  meek  spirit  of  childhood,  and 
not  the  proud  spirit  of  manhood,  that  welcomes 
and  appropriates  the  Christian  salvation.  He  is 
only  contrasting  the  general  attitude  of  a  child, 
with  the  general  attitude  of  a  man.  He  merely 
affii'ms  that  the  trustful  and  helieving  temper  of 
childhood,  as  compared  with  the  self-reliant  and 
slceptical  temper  of  manhood,  is  the  temper  by 
which  both  the  child  and  the  man  are  to  receive 
the  blessings  of  the  gospel  which  both  of  them 
equally  need. 

The  kingdom  of  God  is  represented  in  the  New 
Testament,  sometimes  as  subjective,  and  sometimes 
as  objective;  sometimes  as  within  the  soul  of  man, 
and  sometimes  as  up  in  the  skies.  Our  text  com- 
bines both  representations  ;  for,  it  speaks  of  a  man's 
"receiving"  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  of  a  man's 
"  entering"  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  of  the  coming  of 
heaven  into  a  soul,  and  of  the  going  of  a  soul  into 
heaven.  In  other  passages,  one  or  tlie  other  repre- 
sentation appears  alone.  "The  kingdom  of  God," 
— says  our  Lord  to  the  Pharisees, — "  cometh  not 
with  observation.  Neither  shall  they  say,  Lo  here, 
or  lo  there :  for  behold  the  kingdom  of  God  is 
within  you."  The  apostle  Paul,  upon  arriving  at 
Rome,  invited  the  resident  Jews  to  discuss  the 
subject  of  Christianity  with  him.  "And  when 
they  had  appointed  him  a  day,  there  came  iiuiiiy 
to  him  into  his  lodging,  to  whom  he  expounded 
and   testified   the  king<lom  of  God," — to  wlunn  he 


384  CHRISTIANITY    REQUIRES 

explained  tlie  nature  of  tlie  Christian  religion, — 
"persuading  them  concerning  Jesus,  both  out  of 
the  law  of  Moses,  and  out  of  the  pi'ophets,  from 
morning  till  evening."  The  same  apostle  teaches 
the  Romans,  that  "  the  kingdom  of  God  is  not 
meat  and  drink ;  but  I'ighteousness,  and  peace, 
and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost;"  and  tells  the  Corin- 
thians, that  "the  kingdom  of  God  is  not  in  word, 
but  in  power."  In  all  these  instances,  the  subject- 
ive signification  prevails,  and  the  kingdom  of  God 
is  simply  a  system  of  truth,  or  a  state  of  the  heart. 
And  all  are  familiar  with  the  sentiment,  that 
heaven  is  a  state,  as  well  as  a  place.  All  under- 
stand that  one  half  of  heaven  is  in  the  human 
heart  itself;  and,  that  if  this  half  be  wanting,  the 
other  half  is  useless, — as  the  half  of  a  thing  gener- 
ally is.  Isaac  Walton  remarks  of  the  devout 
Sibbs: 

"  Of  tliis  blest  man,  let  this  just  praise  be  given, 
Ileaveu  was  in  him,  before  he  was  in  heaven," 

It  is  only  because  that  in  the  eternal  world  the 
imperfect  righteousness  of  the  renewed  man  is  per- 
fected, and  the  peace  of  the  anxious  soul  becomes 
total,  and  the  joy  that  is  so  rare  and  faint  in  the 
Christian  experience  here  upon  earth  becomes  the 
very  element  of  life  and  action, — it  is  only  because 
eternity  coiivpletes  the  excellence  of  the  Christian 
(but  does  not  begin  it),  that  heaven,  as  a  place  of 
perfect  holiness  and  happiness,  is  said  to  be  in  the 


THE    TEMrER    OF    CHILDHOOD.  385 

future  life,  and  we  are  commanded  to  seek  a  better 
country  even  a  heavenly.  But,  because  this  is  so, 
let  no  one  lose  sight  o  '  the  other  side  of  the  great 
truth,  and  forget  that  man  must  "  receive ''  the  king- 
dom as  well  as  "entei-"it.  Without  the  ri<2;ht 
state  of  heart,  without  the  mental  correspondent  to 
heaven,  that  beautiful  and  happy  region  on  high 
will,  like  any  and  every  other  place,  ])e  a  hell,  in- 
stead of  a  paradise.^  A  distinguished  writer  rep- 
resents one  of  his  characters  as  leaving  the  Old 
World,  and  seeking  happiness  in  the  New,  suppos- 
ing that  change  of  place  and  outward  circumstances 
could  cure  a  restless  mind.  He  found  no  rest  by 
the  change ;  and  in  view  of  his  disappointment 
says :  "  I  will  return,  and  in  my  ancestral  home, 
amid  my  paternal  fields,  among  my  own  people,  I 
will  say,  Ilere^  or  nowhere^  is  America."  ^  In  like 
manner,  must  the  Christian  seek  hap})iness  in  pres- 
ent peace  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  must  here 
in  this  life  strive  after  the  rio-hteousness  thatbrino-s 
tranquillity.  Though  he  may  look  forward  with  as- 
piration to  the  new  heavens  and  the  new  earth 
wherein  dwelleth  a  perfected  righteousness,  yet  he 

'  "  Concerning  tlie  object  of  fe-  essary  to   our  satisfying;  finiition, 

lieity  in   lu-aven,  we  :ire   agreed  tliat  without  tliis  we  are  no  more 

tliat  it  can  be  no  other  than  tlie  cai)able  tiiereof.  tlian  a  hriite  or" 

blessed  God  himself,  the  all-corn-  the  festivities  of  a  quaint  oration, 

preliending  good,  t'lilly  adequate  or  a  stone  of  the  relislies  of  the 

to  the  highest  and  most  enlarged  most  i>K'asant  meats  and  drinks." 

reasonable  desires.     Butlhecon-  IIowk:  Heaven  a  State  of  Perfec- 

temperation    of   our   faculties  to  tion. 
tlie  holy,  blissful  object,  is  so  nec- 

'^GoKTUi::   Wilhelin  ileister,  Bo(d<  VII.,  eh.  iii. 


386  '  CHRISTIANITY    REQUIRES 

must  remember  that  his  holiness  and  happiness 
there  is  merely  an  expansion  of  his  holiness  and  hap- 
piness lure.  He  must  seek  to  "receive"  the  king- 
dom of  God,  as  well  as  to  "  enter  "  it ;  and  when 
tempted  to  relax  his  efforts,  and  to  let  down  his 
watch,  because  the  future  life  will  not  oppose  so 
many  obstacles  to  spirituality  as  this,  and  will  bring 
a  more  perfect  enjoyment  with  it,  he  should  say  to 
himself:  "  Be  holy  now,  be  haj^py  here.  Here,  or 
7iowJiere.  is  heaven." 

Such  being  the  nature  of  the  kingdom  of  God, 
we  are  now  brought  up  to  the  discussion  of  the  sub- 
ject of  the  text,  and  are  prepared  to  consider:  In 
w-iat  respects,  tJie  hingdom  of  God  requires  the  tem- 
per  of  a  child  as  distinguished  from  the  temper  of  a 
man,  in  order  to  receive  it,  and  in  order  to  enter  it. 

The  kin2:dom  of  God,  considered  as  a  kinfrdom 
that  is  within  the  soul,  is  tantamount  to  religion. 
To  receive  this  kingdom,  then,  is  equivalent  to  re- 
ceivino;  reli2:ion  into  the  heart,  so  that  the  character 
shall  be  formed  by  it,  and  the  future  destiny  be  de- 
cided by  it.  AVhat,  then,  is  the  religion  that  is  to 
be  received  ?  We  answer  that  it  is  the  relio-ion 
that  is  needed.  But,  the  religion  that  is  needed  by 
a  sinful  man  is  verv  different  from  the  relimon  that 
is  adapted  to  a  holy  angel.  He  who  has  never 
sinned  is  already  in  direct  and  blessed  relations 
with  God,  and  needs  only  to  drink  in  the  overflow- 
ing and  everflowing  stream  of  purity  and  pleasure. 
Such  a  spirit  requires  a  religion  of  only  two  doc- 


THE  TEMPER  OF  CHILDHOOD.        387 

trines :  First,  that  there  is  a  God  ;  and,  secondly, 
that  He  ought  to  be  loved  supremely  and  obeyed 
perfectly.  This  is  the  entire  theology  of  the  angels, 
and  it  is  enough  for  them.  They  know  nothing  of 
sin  in  their  personal  experience,  and  consequently 
they  require  in  their  religion,  none  of  those  doc- 
trines, and  none  of  those  provisions,  which  are 
adapted  to  the  needs  of  sinners. 

But,  man  is  in  an  altogether  different  condition 
from  this.  He  too  knows  that  there  is  a  God,  and 
that  He  ought  to  be  loved  supremely,  and  obeyed 
perfectly.  Thus  far,  he  goes  along  with  the  angel, 
and  with  every  other  rational  being  made  under  the 
law  and  government  of  God.  But,  at  this  point, 
his  path  diverges  from  that  of  the  pure  and  obedi- 
ent inhabitant  of  heaven,  and  leads  in  an  opposite 
direction.  For  he  does  not,  like  the  angels,  act  up 
to  his  knowledge.  He  is  not  conformed  to  these 
two  doctrines.  He  does  not  love  God  supremely, 
and  he  does  not  obey  Hira  perfectly.  This  fact 
puts  him  into  a  very  different  position,  in  reference 
to  these  two  doctrines,  fixmi  that  occupied  by  the 
obedient  and  unfallen  spirit.  These  two  doctrines, 
in  relation  to  him  as  one  who  has  contravened  them, 
liave  become  a  power  of  condemnation  ;  and  when- 
ever he  thinks  of  them  he  feels  guilty.  -It  is  no 
longer  sufficient  to  tell  him  that  religion  consists  in 
loving  God,  and  enjoying  His  presence, — consists  in 
holiness  and  happiness.  "  This  is  very  true," — he 
says, — "  but  I  am  neither  holy  nor  happy."    It  is  no 


388  CIIEISTIANITY    REQUIRES 

longer  enough  to  remind  liim  that  all  is  well  with 
any  creature  who  loves  God  with  all  his  heart,  and 
keeps  His  commandments  without  a  single  slip  or 
failure.  "  This  is  very  true," — he  says  again, — 
"  l)ut  I  do  not  love  in  this  style,  neither  have  I 
obeyed  in  this  manner."  It  is  too  late  to  preach 
mere  natural  religion,  the  religion  of  the  angels,  to 
one  who  has  failed  to  stand  fully  and  firmly  upon 
the  principles  of  natural  religion.  It  is  too  late  to 
tell  a  creature  who  has  lost  Lis  virtue,  that  if  he  is 
only  virtuous  he  is  safe  enough. 

The  religion,  then,  that  a  sinner  needs,  cannot  be 
limited  to  the  two  doctrines  of  the  holiness  of  God, 
and  the  creature's  obligation  to  love  and  serve  Ilim, 
■ — cannot  be  pared  down  to  the  precept :  Fear  God 
and  practise  virtue.  It  must  be  greatly  enlarged, 
and  augmented,  by  the  introduction  of  that  other 
class  of  truths  which  relate  to  the  Divine  mercy 
towards  those  who  have  not  feared  God,  and  the 
Divine  method  of  salvation  for  those  who  are  sinful. 
In  other  words,  the  religion  for  a  transgressor  is  re- 
vealed religion,  or  the  religion  of  Atonement  and 
Redemption. 

What,  now,  is  there  in  this  species  of  religion 
tliat  necessitates  the  meek  and  docile  temper  of  a 
child,  as  distinguished  from  the  proud  and  self-reli- 
ant spirit  of  a  man,  in  order  to  its  reception  into  the 
heart  ? 

I.  In  the  first  place,  tlie  New  Testament  rdigion 
offers  tlie  forgiveness  of  sins,  and  provides  for  it 


THE    TEMPER    OF    CHILDHOOD.  oSl) 

No  one  can  ponder  tliis  fact  an  instant,  without 
perceiving  that  the  pride  and  self-reliance  of  man- 
hood are  excluded,  and  that  the  meekness  and  im- 
plicit trust  of  childhood  are  demanded.  Pardon  and 
justification  before  God  must,  from  the  nature  of  the 
case,  be  a  gift,  and  a  gift  cannot  be  ol>tained  unless 
it  is  accepted  as  such.  To  demand  or  claim  mercy, 
is  self-contradictory.  For,  a  claim  implies  a  ])ersonal 
ground  for  it ;  and  this  implies  self-reliance,  and  this 
is  "manhood"  in  distinction  from  "childhood." 
In  coming,  therefore,  as  the  religion  of  the  Cross 
does,  before  man  witli  a  gratuity,  with  an  ofifer  to 
pardon  his  sins,  it  supposes  that  he  take  a  correspon- 
dent attitude.  Were  he  sinless,  tlie  relio-ion  suited 
to  liim  would  be  the  mere  utterance  of  law,  and  he 
might  stand  up  before  it  with  the  serene  brow  of  an 
obedient  subject  of  the  Divine  government ;  though 
even  then,  not  with  a  proud  and  boastful  temper.  It 
would  be  out  of  place  for  him,  to  plead  guilt}^  when 
he  was  innocent ;  or  to  cast  himself  upon  mere}-, 
when  he  could  appeal  to  justice.  If  the  creature's 
acceptance  be  of  works,  then  it  is  no  more  of  grace, 
otherwise  work  is  no  more  work.  But  if  it  be  by 
grace,  then  it  is  no  more  of  works  (Rom.  xi.  ()). 
If  the  very  first  feature  of  the  Christian  religion  is 
the  exhil)ition  of  clemency,  then  the  proper  and  nec- 
essary attitude  of  one  who  receives  it  is  that  of  liu- 
mility. 

But,  leavino:  this  ar2:ument  dnnvn  from  the  char- 
acteristics  of  Christianity  as  a  religion  of  Kedemp- 


590  CHRISTIANITY   EEQUIEES 

tion,  let  us  pass  into  tlie  soul  of  man,  and  see  what 
we  are  taught  there,  respecting  the  temper  which 
he  must  possess  in  order  to  receive  this  new,  re- 
vealed kingdom  of  God.  The  soul  of  man  is  guilty. 
Now,  there  is  something  in  the  very  nature  of  guilt 
that  excludes  the  proud,  self-conscious,  self-reliant 
spirit  of  manhood,  and  necessitates  the  lowly,  and 
dependent  spirit  of  childhood.  Yf  hen  conscience 
is  full  of  remorse,  and  the  holy  eye  of  law  is  search- 
ing us,  an'd  fears  of  eternal  l)anishment  and  punish- 
ment are  racking  the  spirit,  there  is  no  remedy  but 
simple  confession,  and  childlike  reliance  upon  abso- 
lute mercy.  The  sinner  must  be  a  softened  child 
and  not  a  hard  man,  he  must  beg  a  boon  and  not 
put  in  a  claim,  if  he  would  receive  this  kingdom  of 
(rod,  this  New  Testament  religion,  into  his  soul. 
The  slisfhtest  inclination  to  self-risjhteousness,  the 
least  dei^ree  of  resistance  to  the  just  pressure  of  law, 
is  a  vitiating  element  in  repentance.  The  muscles 
of  the  stout  man  must  give  wa}^,  the  knees  must 
bend,  the  hands  must  be  uplifted  deprecatingly,  the 
eyes  must  gaze  with  a  straining  gaze  upon  tlie  ex- 
piating Cross, — in  other  words,  the  least  and  last 
remains  of  a  stout  and  self-asserting  spirit  must 
vanish,  and  the  whole  being  must  be  pliant,  bruised, 
broken,  helpless  in  its  state  and  condition,  in  order 
to  a  pure  sense  of  guilt,  a  godly  sorrow  for  sin,  and 
a  cordial  appropriation  of  the  atonement.  The  at- 
tempt to  mix  the  two  tempers,  to  mingle  the  child 
with  the  man,  to  confess  sin  and  assert  self-righteous- 


THE    TEMPER    OF    CHILDHOOD.  391 

ness,  must  be  an  entire  failure,  and  totally  prevent 
the  reception  of  the  religion  of  Redemption.  In 
relation  to  the  Redeemer,  the  sinful  soul  should  be 
a  vacuum,  a  hollow  void,  destitute  of  everything 
holy  and  good,  conscious  that  it  is,  and  aching  to 
be  filled  with  the  fulness  of  His  peace  and  purity. 

And  with  reference  to  God,  the  Being  whose  func- 
tion it  is  to  pardon,  we  see  the  same  necessity  for 
this  child-like  spirit  in  the  transgressor.  How  can 
God  administer  forgiveness,  unless  there  is  a  correla- 
ted temper  to  receive  it  ?  His  particular  declara- 
tive act  in  blotting  out  sin  depends  upon  tlie  exist- 
ence of  penitence  for  sin.  Where  there  is  absolute 
hardness  of  heart,  there  can  be  no  pardon,  from  the 
very  nature  of  the  case,  and  the  very  terms  of  the 
statement.  Can  God  say  to  the  hardened  Judas : 
Son  be  of  good  cheer,  thy  sin  is  forgiven  thee  ? 
Can  He  speak  to  the  traitor  as  He  speaks  to  the 
Magdalen  ?  Tlie  difficulty  is  not  upon  the  side  of 
God.  The  Divine  pity  never  lags  behind  any  gen- 
uine human  soi-row.  No  man  was  ever  more  eager 
to  be  foro^iven  than  his  Redeemer  is  to  forc^ive  him. 
No  contrition  for  sin,  upon  the  part  of  man,  ever 
yet  outran  the  readiness  and  delight  of  God  to  rec- 
ognize it,  and  meet  it  with  a  free  pardon.  For,  that 
very  contrition  itself  is  always  the  product  of  Divine 
grace,  and  proves  that  God  is  in  advance  of  the 
soul.  The  father  in  the  parable  saw  the  son  while 
he  was  a  great  ^vay  off,  before  the  son  savr  him,  and 
ran  and  fell  on  his  neck  and  kissed  him.     But  while 


392  CHRISTIANITY   EEQUIRES 

this  is  so,  and  is  an  encouragement  to  the  penitent, 
it  must  ever  be  remembered  that  unless  there  is 
some  genuine  sorrow  in  the  human  soul,  there  can 
be  no  manifestation  of  the  Divine  forgiveness  with- 
in it.  Man  cannot  beat  the  air,  and  God  cannot 
forgive  impenitency. 

II,  In  the  second  place,  the  New  Testament  relig- 
ion proj^oses  to  create  ivitJdn  man  a  clean  hearty  and 
to  reneio  within  him  a  inght  sjnrit.  Christianity  not 
only  pardons  but  sanctifies  the  human  soul.  And 
in  accomplishing  this  latter  work,  it  requires  the 
same  humble  and  docile  temper  that  w^as  demanded 
in  the  former  instance. 

Holiness,  even  in  an  unfallen  angel,  is  not  an  ab- 
solutely self  originated  thing.  If  it  were,  the  angel 
^vould  be  worthy  of  adoration  and  worship.  He 
who  is  inwardly  and  totally  excellent,  and  can  also 
say :  I  am  what  I  am  by  my  own  ultimate  author- 
ship, can  claim  for  himself  the  glory  that  is  due  to 
righteousness.  Any  self-originated  and  self-subsist- 
ent  virtue  is  entitled  to  the  hallelujahs.  But,  no 
created  spirit,  though  he  be  the  highest  of  the  arch- 
angels, can  make  such  an  assertion,  or  put  in  such  a 
claim.  The  merit  of  the  unfallen  angel,  therefore, 
is  a  relative  one ;  because  his  holiness  is  of  a  created 
and  derived  species.  It  is  not  increate  and  self-sub- 
sistent.  This  being  so,  it  is  plain  that  the  proper 
attitude  of  all  creatures  in  respect  to  moral  excel- 
lence is  a  recipient  and  dependent  one.  But  this 
is  a  meek  and  lowly  attitude ;  and  this  is,  in   one 


THE   TEMPER    OF    CHILDHOOD.  393 

sense,  a  child-like  attitude.  Our  Lord  knew  no  sin  ; 
and  yet  He  himself  tells  us  that  He  was  meek  and 
lowly  of  heart,  and  we  well  know  that  He  was. 
He  does  not  say  that  He  was  penitent.  He  does 
not  propose  himself  as  our  exemplar  in  that  respect. 
But,  in  respect  to  the  primal,  normal  attitude  which 
a  finite  being  must  ever  take  in  reference  to  the  infi- 
nite and  adorable  God,  and  the  absolute  undeiived 
Holiness;  in  reference  to  the  true  temper  which  a 
holy  man  or  a  holy  angel  must  possess ;  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  in  His  human  capacit}^  sets  an  exam- 
ple to  be  followed  by  the  spirits  of  just  men  made 
perfect,  and  by  all  the  holy  inhabitants  of  heaven. 
In  other  words,  He  teaches  the  whole  universe  that 
holiness  in  a  creature,  even  though  it  be  complete, 
does  not  permit  its  possessor  to  be  self-reliant,  does 
not  allow  the  proud  spirit  of  manhood,  does  not 
remove  tlie  obligation  to  be  child-like,  meek,  and 
lowly  of  heart. 

But  if  this  is  true  of  holiness  among:  those  who 
have  never  fallen,  how  much  more  true  is  it  of  those 
who  have,  and  who  need  to  be  lifted  up  out  of  the 
abyss.  If  an  angel,  in  reference  to  God,  must  be 
meek  and  lowly  of  heart;  if  the  holy  Bedeemer 
must  in  His  human  capacity  l)e  meek  and  lowly  of 
heart ;  if  the  child-like  temper,  in  reference  to  the 
infinite  and  everlasting  Father  and  the  absolutely 
Good,  is  the  proper  one  in  such  exalted  instances 
as  these;  how  much  more  is  it  in  the  instance  of 
the  vile  and  apostate  children  of  Adam  !     Besides 


394  CHRISTIANITY    EEQUIRES 

the  original  and  primitive  reason  growing  out  of 
creaturely  relationships,  there  is  the  superadded  one 
growing  out  of  the  fact,  that  now  the  whole  head 
is  sick  and  the  whole  heart  is  faint,  and  from  the 
sole  of  the  foot  even  unto  the  head  there  is  no 
soundness  in  human  nature. 

Hence,  our  Lord  began  His  Sermon  on  the 
Mount  in  these  Vv^ords:  "Blessed  are  the  poor  in 
spirit ;  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Bless- 
ed are  they  that  mourn;  for  they  shall  be  com- 
forted. Blessed  ai-e  the  meek ;  for  they  shall  in- 
herit the  earth.  Blessed  are  they  which  do  hunger 
and  thirst  after  righteousness;  for  they  shall  be 
filled."  ^  The  very  opening  of  this  discourse,  which 
He  intended  should  go  down  through  the  ages  as 
a  manifesto  declarino-  the  real  nature  of  His  kino;- 
dom,  and  the  spirit  which  His  followers  must  pos- 
sess, asserts  the  necessity  of  a  needy,  recipient, 
asking  mind,  upon  the  part  of  a  sinner.  All 
this  phraseology  implies  destitution ;  and  a  des- 
titution that  cannot  be  self-supplied.  He  who 
hungers  and  thirsts  after  righteousness  is  con- 
scious of  an  inward  void,  in  respect  to  right- 
eousness, that  must  be  filled  from  abroad.  He 
who  is  meek  is  sensible  that  he  is  dependent  f  »r 
his  moral  excellence.  He  who  is  poor  in  spirit 
is,  not  pusillanimous  as  Thomas  Paine  charged 
upon  Christianity  but,  as  John  of  Damascus  sail 

•  Compare  Isaiah  Izi.  1. 


THE   TEMPER    OF    CHILDHOOD.  395 

of  himself,  a  man  of  spiritual  cravings,  vir  deside- 
riorum. 

Now,  all  this  delineation  of  the  general  attitude 
requisite  in  order  to  the  reception  of  the  Christian 
religion  is  summed  up  again,  in  the  declaration  of 
our  text :  "  Whosoever  shall  not  receive  the  king- 
dom of  God  as  a  little  cliild^  lie  shall  not  enter 
therein."  Is  a  man,  then,  sensible  that  his  under- 
standing is  darkened  by  sin,  and  that  he  is  desti- 
tute of  clear  and  just  apprehensions  of  divine 
things  ?  Does  his  consciousness  of  inward  poverty 
assume  this  form  ?  If  he  would  be  delivered  from 
his  mental  blindness,  and  be  made  rich  in  spiritual 
knowledge,  he  must  adopt  a  teachable  and  recip- 
ient attitude.  He  must  not  assume  that  his  own 
mind  is  the  great  fountain  of  wisdom,  and  seek  to 
clear  up  his  doubts  and  darkness  by  the  rational- 
istic method  of  self-illumination.  On  the  contrary, 
he  must  go  beyond  his  mind  and  open  a  hooh,  even 
the  book  of  Revelation,  and  search  for  the  wisdom 
it  contains  and  proffers.  And  yet  more  than  this. 
As  this  volume  is  the  product  of  the  Eternal  Spirit 
himself,  and  this  Spirit  conspires  with  the  doc- 
ti'ines  M'hich  lie  has  revealed,  and  exerts  a  posi- 
tive illuminatin":  influence,  he  must  seek  commu- 
nion  therewith.  From  first  to  last,  therefore,  the 
darkened  human  spirit  must  take  a  waiting  posture, 
in  order  to  enlightenment.  That  part  of  "  the 
clean  heart  and  the  right  spirit"  which  consists 
in  the  knowlehji'  (f  divine  things  can  be  obtained 


396  CHEISTIANITT    EEQUIEES 

only  through  a  child-like  bearing  and  temper. 
This  is  what  our  Lord  means,  when  He  pronounces 
a  blessing  upon  the  poor  in  spirit,  the  hungry  and 
the  thirsting  soul.  Men,  in  their  pride  and  self- 
reliance,  in  their  sense  of  manhood,  may  seek  to 
enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven  by  a  different  method  ; 
they  may  attempt  to  speculate  their  way  through 
all  the  mystery  that  overhangs  human  life,  and  the 
doubts  that  confuse  and  baffle  the  human  under- 
standing ;  but  when  they  find  that  the  unaided 
intellect  only  "  spets  a  thicker  gloom  "  instead  of 
pouring  a  serener  ray,  wearied  and  worn  they  re- 
turn, as  it  were,  to  the  sweet  days  of  childhood,  and 
in  the  gentleness,  and  tenderness,  and  docility  of 
an  altered  mood,  learn,  as  Bacon  did  in  respect  to 
the  kino;dom  of  nature,  that  the  kino-dom  of  heaven 
is  open  only  to  the  little  child. 

Again,  is  a  man  conscious  of  the  corruption  of 
his  heart?  Has  he  discovered  his  alienation  from 
the  life  and  love  of  God,  and  is  he  now  aware  that 
a  total  change  must  pass  upon  him,  or  that  alien- 
ation must  be  everlastinsf  ?  Has  he  found  out 
that  his  inclinations,  and  feelings,  and  tastes,  and 
sympathies  are  so  worldly,  so  averse  from  spiritual 
objects,  as  to  be  beyond  his  sovereignty  ?  Does  he 
feel  vividly  that  the  attempt  to  expel  this  carnal 
mind,  and  to  induce  in  the  place  thereof  the  heav- 
enly spontaneous  glow  of  piety  towards  God  and 
man,  is  precisely  like  the  attempt  of  the  Ethiopian 
to  change  his  skin,  and  the  leopard  his  spots? 


THE   TEMPER    OF   CHILDHOOD.  397 

If  this  experience  has  been  foi-ced  upon  him,  shall 
he  meet  it  with  the  port  and  bearing  of  a  strong 
man  ?  Shall  he  take  the  attitude  of  the  old  Koman 
stoic,  and  attempt  to  meet  the  exigencies  of  his 
moral  condition,  by  the  steady  strain  and  hard  tug 
of  his  own  force  ?  He  cannot  long  do  this,  under 
the  clear  searchinsr  ethics  of  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount,  without  an  inexpressible  weariness  and  a 
profound  despair.  Were  he  within  the  sphere  of 
paganism,  it  might,  perhaps,  be  otherwise.  A 
Marcus  Aurelius  could  maintain  this  lesral  and  self- 
righteous  position  to  the  end  of  life,  because  his 
ideal  of  virtue  was  a  v^ery  low  one.  Had  that  high- 
minded  pagan  felt  the  influences  of  Christian  ethics, 
had  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  searched  his  soul, 
telling  him  that  the  least  emotion  of  pride,  anger,  or 
lust,  was  a  breach  of  that  everlastins;  law  which 
stood  grand  and  venerable  before  his  philosophic 
eye,  and  that  his  virtue  was  all  gone,  and  his  soul 
was  exposed  to  the  inflictions  of  justice,  if  even  a 
single  thought  of  his  heart  was  unconformed  to  the 
perfect  rule  of  right, — if,  instead  of  the  mere  twi- 
light of  natural  religion,  there  had  flared  into  his 
mind  the  fierce  and  consuming  splendor  of  the  noon- 
day sun  of  revealed  truth,  and  Ne^v  Testament 
ethics,  it  would  have  been  impossible  for  that  seri- 
ous-minded emperor  to  say,  as  in  his  utter  self-delu- 
sion he  did,  to  the  Deity:  "Give  me  my  dues," — in- 
stead of  breathing  the  prayer:  "Forgive  me  my 
debts."     Christianity    elevates    the    standard    and 


398  CHEISTlAlS^rTY    EEQUIRES 

raises  the  ideal  of  moral  excellence,  and  thereby 
disturbs  the  self-complacent  feeling  of  the  stoic,  and 
the  moralist.  If  the  law  and  rule  of  riglit  is  merely 
an  ontward  one,  it  is  possible  for  a  man  sincerely 
to  suppose  that  he  has  kept  the  law,  and  his  sin- 
cerity will  be  his  ruin.  For,  in  this  case,  he  can 
maintain  a  self-reliant  and  a  self-satisfied  spirit,  the 
spirit  of  manhood,  to  the  ver}^  end  of  bis  earthly 
career,  and  go  with  his  righteousness  which  is  as 
filthy  rags,  into  tlie  presence  of  Him  in  whose  sight 
the  heav^ens  are  not  clean.  But,  if  the  law  and  rule 
of  right  is  seen  to  be  an  inward  and  spiritual  statute, 
piercing  to  the  dividing  asunder  of  the  soul  and 
spirit,  and  becoming  a  discerner  of  the  thoughts 
and  intents  of  the  heart,  it  is  not  possible  for  a  can- 
did man  to  delude  himself  into  the  belief  that  he 
has  perfectly  obeyed  it ;  and  in  this  instance,  tliat 
self-dissatisfied  spirit,  that  consciousness  of  internal 
schism  and  bondao;e,  that  war  between  the  flesh  and 
the  spirit  so  vividly  portrayed  in  the  seventh  chap- 
ter of  Romans,  begins,  and  instead  of  the  utterance 
of  the  moralist :  "  I  have  kept  the  everlasting  law, 
give  me  my  dues,''  there  bursts  forth  the  self-des- 
pairing cry  of  the  penitent  and  the  child :  "  O 
wretched  man  that  I  am !  who  shall  deliver  ma? 
Father  I  have  sinned  against  heaven  and  before 
thee." 

When,  therefore,  the  truth  and  Spirit  of  God 
working  in  and  with  the  natural  conscience,  have 
brought  a  man  to  that  point  where  he  sees  that  all 


THE   TEMPER    OF   CHILDHOOD.  399 

Lis  own  righteousness  is  as  filthy  rags,  and  that  the 
pui-e  and  stainless  righteousness  of  Jehovah  must 
become  the  possession  and  the  characteristic  of  his 
soul,  he  is  prepared  to  believe  the  declaration  of 
our  text:  "Whosoever  shall  not  receive  the  king- 
dom of  God  as  a  little  child,  he  shall  not  enter  there- 
in." The  new  lieart,  and  the  right  spirit, — tlie 
change,  not  in  the  mere  extei'nal  behavior  but,  in  the 
very  disposition  and  inclination  of  the  soul, — ex- 
cludes every  jot  and  tittle  of  self-assertion,  every 
2)article  of  proud  and  stoical  manhood. 

Such  a  text  as  this  which  we  have  been  consider- 
ing is  well  adapted  to  put  us  upon  the  true  method 
of  attaining  everlasting  life.  These  few  and  simple 
words  actually  dropped,  eighteen  hundred  years  ago, 
from  tlie  lips  of  that  august  Being  who  is  now  seat- 
ed upon  the  throne  of  heaven,  and  who  knows  this 
very  instant  the  effect  which  they  are  producing  in 
the  heart  of  every  one  who  either  reads  or  heai's 
them.  Let  us  remember  that  these  few  and  simple 
words  do  verily  contain  the  key  to  everlasting  life 
and  glory.  In  knowing  what  they  mean,  we  know, 
infallibly,  the  way  to  heaven,  "I  tell  you,  that 
many  prophets  and  kings  have  desired  to  see  those 
tilings  which  we  Sv.v',  and  have  not  seen  them:  and 
to  hear  those  things  which  we  hear,  and  have  not 
heard  them."  How  many  a  thoughtful  pagan,  in 
the  centuries  that  have  passed  and  gone,  would  .in 
all  probability  have  turned  a  most  attentive  ear, 
had  he  heard,  as  we  do,  from  the  lips  of  an  unerring 


400  CnEISTIANITT   AND    CHILDHOOD. 

Teacher,  that  a  child-like  reception  of  a  certain  par* 
ticular  truth, — and  that  not  lecondite  and  metaphys- 
ical, but  simple  as  childhood  itself,  and  to  be  received 
by  a  little  child's  act, —  would  infallibly  conduct  to 
the  elysium  that  haunted  and  tantalized  him. 

That  which  hinders  us  is  our  pride,  our  "  man- 
hood." The  act  of  faith  is  a  child's  act ;  and  a 
child's  act,  though  intrinsically  the  easiest  of  any,  is 
relatively  the  most  difficult  of  all.  It  implies  the 
surrender  of  our  self-will,  our  selflove,  our  proud 
manhood  ;  and  never  was  a  truer  remark  made  than 
that  of  UUmann,  that "  in  no  one  thing  is  the  strength 
of  a  man's  will  so  manifested,  as  in  his  having  no 
will  of  his  own."  ^  "  Christianity," — says  Jeremy 
Taylor, — "  is  the  easiest  and  the  hardest  thing  in 
the  world.  It  is  like  a  secret  in  arithmetic ;  infi- 
nitely hai'd  till  it  be  found  out  by  a  right  operation, 
and  then  it  is  so  plain  we  wonder  we  did  not  under- 
stand it  earlier."  How  hard,  how  impossible  with- 
out that  Divine  grace  which  makes  all  such  central 
and  revolutionary  acts  easy  and  genial  to  the  soul, 
— how  hard  it  is  to  cease  from  our  own  works,  and 
really  become  docile  and  recipient  children,  believ- 
ing on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  trusting  in  Him, 
simply  and  solely,  for  salvation. 

*  Ullmann  :  Sinlessness  of  Jesus,  Pt.  I.,  Cb.  iii.,  §  2. 


FAITH    THE    SOLE    SAYIXG    ACT. 


John  vi.  28,  29. — "Then  said  they  unto  him,  "What  shall  we  do,  that  we 
might  work  the  works  of  God?  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  them, 
This  is  the  work  of  God,  that  ye  beh'eve  on  him  whom  he  hath  sent." 


In  asking  tlieir  question,  the  Jews  intended  to 
inquire  of  Christ  what  particular  things  they  must 
do,  before  all  others,  in  order  to  please  God.  The 
"  works  of  God,"  as  they  denominate  them,  were  not 
any  and  eveiy  duty,  but  those  more  special  and  im- 
portant acts,  by  which  the  creature  might  secure 
the  Divine  approval  and  favor.  Our  Lord  under- 
stood their  question  in  this  sense,  and  in  His  reply 
tells  them,  that  the  great  and  only  work  for  them 
to  do  was  to  exercise  faith  in  Him.  They  had  em- 
ployed the  plural  number  in  their  question  ;  but  in 
His  answer  He  employs  the  singular.  They  liad 
asked,  "-What  shall  we  do  that  we  might  work  the 
works  of  God, — as  if  thei-e  were  several  of  them. 
His  re})ly  is,  "  This  is  the  work  of  God,  that  ye  be- 
lieve on  Him  whom  He  hath  sent."  He  narrows 
down  the  terms  of  salvation  to  a  single  one ;  and 
makes  the  destiny  of  the  soul  to  depend  upon  the 


402  FAITH   THE   SOLE   SAVING    ACT. 

performance  of  a  particular  individual  act.  In  this, 
as  in  many  other  incidental  wa3'S,  our  Lord  teaches 
His  own  divinity.  If  He  were  a  mere  creature  ;  if 
He  were  only  an  inspired  teacher  like  David  or 
Paul ;  how  would  He  dare,  when  asked  to  give  in 
a  single  word  the  condition  and  means  of  human 
salvation,  to  say  that  they  consist  in  resting  the 
soul  upon  Him  1  Would  David  have  dared  to  say: 
"This  is  the  work  of  God, — this  is  the  saving  act, 
— that  ye  believe  in  me  ?  "  Would  Paul  have  pre- 
sumed to  say  to  the  anxious  inquirer :  "  Your  soul  is 
safe,  if  you  trust  in  me  ? "  But  Christ  makes 
this  declaration,  without  any  qualification.  Yet 
He  was  meek  and  lowly  of  heart,  and  never  assumed 
an  honor  or  a  prerogative  that  did  not  belong  to  Him. 
It  is  only  upon  the  supposition  that  He  was  "  very 
God  of  very  God,"  the  Divine  Redeemer  of  the  chil- 
dren of  men,  that  we  can  justify  such  au  answer  to 
such  a  question. 

The  belief  is  spontaneous  and  natural  to  man, 
that  something  must  be  done  in  order  to  salvation. 
No  man  expects  to  reach  heaven  by  inaction.  Even 
the  indifferent  and  supine  soul  expects  to  rouse  it- 
self up  at  some  future  time,  and  work  out  its  salva- 
tion. The  most  thoughtless  and  inactive  man,  in 
religious  respects,  will  acknowledge  that  thought- 
lessness and  inactivity  if  continued  will  end  in  per- 
dirion.  But  he  intends  at  a  future  day  to  think, 
and  act,  and  be  saved.  So  natural  is  it,  to  every 
man,  to  believe  in  salvation  by  works ;  so  ready  is 


FAITH   THE   SOLE   SAVING   ACT.  403 

every  one  to  concede  that  heaven  Is  readied,  and 
hell  is  escaped,  only  Ijy  an  earnest  effort  of  some 
kind  ;  so  natural  is  it  to  every  man  to^  ask  with 
these  Jews,  "  What  shall  we  c/o,  that  we  may  work 
the  works  of  God?" 

But  mankind  generally,  like  the  Jews  in  the  days 
of  our  Loi'd,  are  under  a  delusion  respecting  the 
nature  of  the  work  which  must  be  performed  in  or- 
der to  salvation.  And  in  order  to  understand  this 
delusion,  we  must  first  examine  the  common  notion 
upon  the  subject. 

When  a  man  begins  to  think  of  God,  and  of  his 
own  relations  to  Him,  he  finds  that  he  owes  Him 
service  and  obedience.  He  has  a  work  to  perform, 
as  a  subject  of  the  Divine  government ;  and  this 
work  is  to  obey  the  Divine  law.  He  finds  himself 
obligated  to  love  God  with  all  his  heart,  and  his 
neighbor  as  himself,  and  to  discharge  all  the  duties 
that  spring  out  of  his  relations  to  God  and  man. 
He  perceives  that  this  is  the  '^  work  "  given  him  to 
do  by  creation,  and  that  if  he  does  it  he  will  attain 
the  true  end  of  his  existence,  and  be  happy  in  time 
and  eternity.  When  therefore  he  begins  to  think 
of  a  religious  life,  his  first  spontaneous  impulse  is 
to  begin  the  performance  of  tills  work  which  lie  lias 
hitherto  neglected,  and  to  reinstate  himself  in  the 
Divine  favor  by  the  ordinary  method  of  keeping- 
the  law  of  God.  He  perceives  that  this  is  the  mode 
in  which  the  angels  preserve  themselves  holy  and 
ha])py  ;  that  this  is  the  oiiginal  mode  appointed  by 


404  FAITH   THE    SOLE    SAVING   ACT. 

God,  wben  He  establisliecl  tlie  covenant  of  works  ; 
and  he  does  not  see  why  it  is  not  the  method  for 
him.  The  law  ex])ressly  affirms  that  the  man  that 
doeth  these  tilings  shall  live  by  them  ;  he  proposes 
to  take  the  law  just  as  it  reads,  and  just  as  it  stands, 
— to  do  the  deeds  of  the  law,  to  perform  the  works 
which  it  enjoins,  and  to  live  by  the  service.  This 
we  say,  is  the  common  notion,  natural  to  man,  of 
the  species  of  work  which  must  be  performed  in  or- 
der to  eternal  life.  This  was  the  idea  which  filled 
the  mind  of  the  Jews  when  they  put  the  question 
of  the  text,  and  received  for  answer  from  Christ, 
"This  is  the  work  of  God,  that  ye  believe  on  him 
whom  he  hath  sent."  Our  Lord  does  not  draw  out 
the  whole  truth,  in  detail.  He  gives  only  the  posi- 
tive part  of  the  answer,  leaving  His  hearers  to  infer 
the  negative  part  of  it.  For  the  whole  doctrine  of 
Christ,  fully  stated,  would  run  thus :  "  No  work  of 
the  hind  of  wliich  you  are  thinhing  can  save  you  ; 
no  obedience  of  the  law,  ceremonial  or  moral,  can 
reinstate  you  in  right  relations  to  God.  I  do  not 
sumuKm  you  to  the  performance  of  any  such  service 
as  that  which  you  have  in  mind,  in  order  to  your 
justification  and  acceptance  before  the  Divine  tribu- 
nal, lids  is  the  work  of  God, — this  is  the  sole  and 
single  act  which  you  are  to  perform, — namely,  that 
you  helieve  on  Him  whom  He  hath  sent  as  a  pi'O- 
])itiation  for  sin.  I  do  not  summon  you  to  works 
of  the  law,  but  to  faith  in  Me  the  Redeemer.  Your 
first  duty  is  not  to  attempt  to  acquire  a  righteous- 


FAITH    THE    SOLE   SAVING    ACT.  405 

ness  in  the  old  method,  by  doing  something  of 
5'ourselves,  but  to  receive  a  righteousness  in  the  new 
method,  ])y  trusting  in  what  another  has  done  for 
you." 

I.  What  is  the  ground  and  reason  of  such  an  an- 
swer as  this?  Why  is  man  invited  to  the  methovl 
of  faith  in  another,  instead  of  the  method  of  faitli  in 
himself?  Why  is  not  his  first  spontaneous  thought 
the  true  one  ?  Why  should  he  not  obtain  eternal 
life  by  resolutely  proceeding  to  do  his  duty,  and 
keeping  the  law  of  God  ?  Why  can  he  not  be  saved 
by  the  law  of  works  ?  Why  is  he  so  summarily 
shut  up  to  the  law  of  faith  ? 

We  answer:  Because  it  is  too  late  for  him  to 
adopt  the  method  of  salvation  by  works.  The  law 
is  indeed  explicit  in  its  assertion,  that  the  man  that 
doetli  these  things  shall  live  by  them ;  Init  then  it 
supposes  that  the  man  begin  at  the  beginning.  A 
subject  of  government  cannot  disobey  a  civil  statute 
for  five  or  ten  years,  and  then  put  himself  in  riglit 
relations  to  it  again,  by  obeying  it  for  the  remain- 
der of  his  life.  Can  a  man  who  has  been  a  thief  or 
an  adulterer  for  twenty  years,  and  then  practises 
honesty  and  purity  for  the  following  thirty  years, 
stand  up  before  tlie  seventli  and  eighth  command- 
ments and  be  acquitted  by  them  ?  It  is  too  late 
for  any  beinir  who  has  violated  a  law  even  in  a  sin- 
gle  instance,  to  attempt  to  be  justified  by  that  law. 
For,  the  law  demands  and  supposes  that  obedience 
begin  at  the  very  heg inning    of  existence,  and  con- 

18* 


406  FAITH    THE   SOLE    SAVING    ACT. 

tinue  down  uriinterrtiptedly  to  the  end  of  it.  No 
man  can  come  in  at  the  middle  of  a  process  of  obe- 
dience, any  more  than  he  can  come  ia  at  the  last 
end  of  it,  if  he  proposes  to  be  accepted  upon  the 
ground  of  obedience.  "  I  testify,"  says  St.  Paul,  "  to 
every  man  that  is  circumcised,  that  he  is  a  debtor 
to  do  the  wliole  law  "  (Gal.  v.  3).  The  whole,  or 
none,  is  the  just  and  inexorable  rule  which  law  lays 
down  in  the  matter  of  justification.  If  any  subject 
of  the  Divine  government  can  show  a  clean  record, 
from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  his  existence,  the 
statute  says  to  him,  "  Well  done,"  and  gives  him  the 
reward  which  he  has  earned.  And  it  gives  it  to 
him  not  as  a  matter  of  grace,  but  of  debt.  The  law 
never  makes  a  present  of  wages.  It  never  pays 
out  wages,  until  they  are  earned, — fairly  and  fully 
earned.  But  when  a  perfect  obedience  from  first 
to  last  is  rendered  to  its  claims,  the  compensation 
follows  as  matter  of  debt.  The  law,  in  this  instance, 
is  itself  brousfht  under  oblic^ation.  It  owes  a  re- 
ward  to  the  perfectly  obedient  subject  of  law,  and 
it  considers  itself  his  debtor  until  it  is  paid.  "  Now 
to  him  that  worketh,  is  the  reward  not  reckoned  of 
grace,  but  of  debt.  If  it  be  of  works,  then  it  is  no 
more  grace :  otherwise  woi'k  is  no  more  work " 
(Rom.  iv.  4  ;  xi.  6) . 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  law  is  equally  exact  and 
inflexible,  in  case  the  work  has  not  been  performed. 
It  will  not  give  eternal  life  to  a  soul  that  has  sin- 
ned ten  years,  and  then  perfectly  obeyed  ten  years, 


FAITH   THE   SOLE   SAVING    ACT.  407 

— supposing  that  there  is  any  such  soul.  The  ol)e- 
dience,  as  we  have  remarked,  must  run  parallel  with 
the  entire  existence,  in  order  to  be  a  ground  of  jus- 
tification. Infancy,  childhood,  youth,  manhood,  old 
age,  and  then  the  whole  immortality  that  succeeds, 
must  all  be  uuiutermittently  sinless  and  holy,  in 
order  to  make  eternal  life  a  matter  of  debt.  Jus- 
tice is  as  exact  and  punctilious  upon  this  side,  as  it 
is  upon  the  other.  We  have  seen,  that  when  a 
perfect  obedience  has  been  rendered,  justice  will 
not  palm  off  the  wages  that  are  due  as  if  they  were 
some  gracious  gift ;  and  on  the  other  hand,  when  a 
perfect  obedience  has  not  been  rendered,  it  will  not 
be  cajoled  into  the  bestowment  of  wages  as  if  they 
liad  been  earned.  There  is  no  principle  that  is  so 
intelligent,  so  upright,  and  so  exact,  as  justice;  and 
no  creature  can  expect  either  to  warp  it,  or  to  cir- 
cumvent it. 

In  the  light  of  these  remarks,  it  is  evident  that  it 
is  toolate  for  a  sinner  to  avail  himself  of  the  method 
of  salvation  by  works.  For,  that  method  requires 
that  sinless  ol)edience  bei»:in  at  the  becfinninfr  of  his 
existence,  and  never  be  interrupted.  But  no  man 
thus  begins,  and  no  man  thus  continues.  "  The  wick- 
ed are  estranged  from  the  womb ;  they  go  astray 
as  soon  as  they  be  born,  speaking  lies  "  (Ps.  Iviii. 
3).  Man  comes  into  the  world  a  sinful  and  nlieu- 
ated  creature.  lie  is  by  nature  a  child  of  wratli 
(Eph.  ii.  3).  Instead  of  beginning  life  with  holi- 
ness, he  begins  it  with   sin.     His  heart  at  biith    is 


408  FAITH   THE   SOLE    SAVING    ACT. 

apostate  and  corrupt;  and  Lis  conduct  from  the 
very  first  is  contrary  to  law.  Such  is  the  teachin<jj 
of  Scripture,  such  is  the  statement  of  the  Creeds, 
and  such  is  the  testimony  of  consciousness,  respect- 
ins;  the  character  which  man  brins^s  into  the  worhl 
with  him.  The  very  dawn  of  human  life  is  cloud- 
ed with  depravity ;  is  marked  by  the  carnal  mind 
which  is  at  enmity  with  the  law  of  Grod,  and  is  not 
subject  to  that  law,  neither  indeed  can  be.  How 
is  it  possible,  then,  for  man  to  attain  eternal  life  by 
a  method  that  supposes,  and  requires,  that  the  very 
dawn  of  his  being  be  holy  like  that  of  Christ's,  and 
that  every  thought,  feeling,  purpose,  and  act  be 
conformed  to  law  through  the  entire  existence  ?  Is 
it  not  too  late  for  such  a  creature  as  man  now  is  to 
adopt  the  method-  of  salvation  by  the  works  of  the 
law  2 

But  we  will  not  crowd  you,  with  the  doctrine  of 
native  depi-avity  and  the  sin  in  Adam.  We  have 
no  doubt  that  it  is  the  scriptural  and  true  doctrine 
concerning  human  nature ;  and  have  no  fears  that 
it  will  be  contradicted  by  either  a  profound  self- 
knowledge,  or  a  profound  metaphysics.  But  per- 
haps you  are  one  who  doubts  it ;  and  therefore,  for 
the  sake  of  argument,  we  will  let  you  set  the  com- 
mencement of  sin  where  you  please.  If  you  tell  us 
that  it  begins  in  the  second,  or  the  fourth,  or  the 
tenth  year  of  life,  it  still  remains  true  that  it  is  too 
late  to  employ  the  method  of  justification  by  works. 
If  you  concede  any  sin  at  all,  at  any  point  whatso- 


FAITH   THE    SOLE    SAVING    ACT.  409 

ever,  in  the  liistory  of  a  human  soul,  you  preclude 
it  from  salvation  hy  the  deeds  of  the  law,  and  shut 
it  up  to  salvation  by  grace.  Go  back  as  far  as  you 
can  in  your  memory,  and  you  must  acknowledge 
that  you  find  sin  as  far  as  you  go ;  and  even  if,  in 
the  face  of  Scripture  and  the  symbols  of  the  Church, 
you  should  deny  that  the  sin  runs  back  to  birth 
and  apostasy  in  Adam,  it  still  remains  true  that 
the  first  years  of  your  co/iscioiis  existence  were  not 
years  of  holiness,  nor  the  first  acts  which  you  re- 
memher^  acts  of  obedience.  Even  upon  your  own 
theory,  you  begin  with  sin,  and  therefore  you  can- 
not be  justified  by  the  law. 

This,  then,  is  a  conclusive  reason  and  ground  for 
the  declaration  of  our  Lord,  that  the  one  great  work 
which  every  fallen  man  has  to  perform,  and  must 
perform,  in  order  to  salvation,  is  faith  in  anotliei-'s 
work,  and  confidence  in  anotlier''s  righteousness.  If 
man  is  to  l)e  saved  by  his  own  righteousness,  that 
rii^hteousness  must  besjin  at  the  very  l)eii;innin2:  of 
his  existence,  and  go  on  without  interrui)tion.  If 
he  is  to  be  saved  by  his  own  good  works,  there  nev- 
er must  be  a  sino;le  instant  in  his  life  when  he  is  not 
working  such  works.  But  beyond  all  controversy 
such  is  not  the  fact.  It  is,  therefore,  impossible  for 
him  to  ])e  justified  by  trusting  in  himself;  and  the 
only  possible  mode  that  now  remains,  is  to  trust  in 
another. 

II.  And  this  brings  iis  to  the  second  part  of  our 
subject.     "This  is  the  work  of  God,  that  ye  believe 


410  FAITH    THE    SOLE    SAVIJSTG    ACT. 

on  him  whom  He  hath  sent."  It  will  be  observed 
that  f\uth  is  liere  deuominated  a  "  work."  And  it 
is  so  indeed.  It  is  a  mental  act;  and  an  act  of  the 
most  comprehensive  and  enei'getic  species.  Faith 
is  an  active  principle  that  carries  the  whole  man 
with  it,  and  in  it, — head  and  heart,  will  and  affec- 
tions, body  soul  and  spirit.  There  is  no  act  so  all- 
embracing  in  its  reach,  and  so  total  in  its  momentum, 
as  the  act  of  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  In  this 
sense,  it  is  a  "  work."  It  is  no  supine  and  torpid 
thing  ;  but  the  most  vital  and  vigorous  activity  that 
can  be  conceived  of  When  a  sinner,  moved  l)y  the 
Holy  Ghost  the  very  source  of  spiritual  life  and  en- 
ergy, casts  himself  in  utter  helplessness,  and  with 
all  his  weight,  upon  his  Redeemer  for  salvation, 
never  is  he  more  active,  and  never  does  he  do  a 
greater  woi'k. 

And  yet,  faith  is  not  a  work  in  the  common  sig- 
nification of  the  word.  In  th-e  Pauline  Epistles,  it 
is  generally  opposed  to  works,  in  such  a  way  as  to 
exclude  them.  For  exam})le  :  "  Where  is  boasting 
then  ?  It  is  excluded.  By  what  law  ?  of  works  ? 
Nay,  but  by  the  law  of  faith.  Therefore  we  con- 
clude that  a  man  is  justified  by  faith,  without  the 
deeds  of  the  law.  Knowing  that  a  man  is  not  jus- 
tified by  the  works  of  the  law  but  by  the  faith  of 
Jesus  Christ,  even  we  have  beheved  in  Jesus 
Christ,  that  we  might  be  justified  by  the  faith  of 
Christ  and  not  by  the  works  of  the  law.  Re- 
ceived ye  the  Spirit,  by  the  works  of  the  law,  or 


FAITH    THE   SOLE   SAVING    ACT.  411 

"by  the  hearing  of  faith  ? "  ^  In  these  and  other 
passages,  faith  and  works  are  directly  contrary  to 
each  otlier ;  so  that  in  this  connection,  faith  is  not 
a  "  vYork."  Let  us  examine  this  point,  a  little  in 
detail,  for  it  will  throw  light  upon  the  subject 
under  discussion. 

In  the  opening  of  the  discc^urse,  we  alluded  to  the 
fact  that  when  a  man's  attention  is  directed  to  the 
subject  of  his  soul's  salvation,  his  first  spontaneous 
thought  is,  that  he  must  of  Idmf^elf  render  some- 
thing to  God,  as  an  offset  for  his  sins  ;  that  he  must 
perform  his  duty  by  Ms  otvn  power  and  effort,  and 
thereV)y  acquire  a  personal  merit  before  his  Maker 
and  Judge.  The  thought  of  appropriating  another 
person's  woik,  of  making  use  of  what  auother  being 
has  done  in  his  stead,  does  not  occur  to  him;  or  if 
it  does,  it  is  repulsive  to  him.  His  thought  is,  that 
it  is  his  own  soul  that  is  to  be  saved,  and  it  is  his 
own  woi'k  that  must  save  it.  Hence,  he  begins  to 
})erform  religious  duties  in  the  ordinary  use  of  his 
own  faculties,  and  in  his  own  strength,  for  the  pur- 
pose, and  with  the  expectation,  of  settling  the  ac- 
count which  he  knows  is  unsettled  between  himself 
and  his  Judge.  As  yet,  there  is  no  faith  in  another 
Bein2[.  He  is  not  trustinix  and  restin<x  in  another 
person;  but  he  is  trusting  and  resting  in  himself. 
He  is  not  makinor  use  of  the  work  or  services  which 
another  has  wrought  in  his  behalf,  but  heisemploy- 

'  RoraaiKs  iii.  27,  28  ;  Galatians  ii.  IG,  iii.  2. 


412  FAITH    THE    SOLE    SAVING    ACT. 

ing  his  own  powers  and  faculties,  in  performing 
these  his  own  works,  w^hich  he  owes,  and  which, 
if  paid  in  this  style,  he  thinks  will  save  his  soul. 
This  is  the  spontaneous,  and  it  is  the  correct, 
idea  of  a  "  work," — of  what  St.  Paul  so  often  calls 
a  "  work  of  the  law\"  And  it  is  the  exact  contrary 
of  fait!) . 

For,  faith  never  does  anything  in  this  independ- 
ent and  self-reliant  manner.  It  does  not  perform  a 
service  in  its  own  strength,  and  then  hold  it  out  to 
God  as  something  for  Him  to  receive,  and  for  which 
He  must  pay  back  wages  in  the  form  of  remitting 
sin  and  bestowing  happiness.  Faith  is  wholly  oc- 
cuj)ied  with  another'' s  work,  and  anotlier''s  merit. 
The  believins:  soul  deserts  all  its  own  doins>:s,  and 
betakes  itself  to  what  a  third  person  has  wrought 
for  it,  and  in  its  stead.  When,  for  illustration,  a 
sinner  discovers  that  he  owes  a  satisfaction  to  Eternal 
Justice  for  the  sins  that  are  past,  if  he  adopts  the 
method  of  works,  he  will  offer  up  his  endeavors  to 
obey  the  law,  as  an  offset,  and  a  reason  why  he 
should  be  forgiven.  He  will  say  in  his  heart,  if  he 
does  not  in  his  prayer :  "  I  am  striving  to  atone  for 
the  past,  by  doing  my  duty  in  the  future;  my  reso- 
lutions, my  prayers  and  alms-giving,  all  this  hard 
struggle  to  be  better  and  to  do  better,  ought  cer- 
tainly to  avail  for  my  pardon."  Or,  if  he  has  been 
educated  in  a  superstitious  Church,  he  will  offer 
up  his  penances,  and  mortifications,  and  pilgrimages, 
as  a  satisfaction  to  justice,  and  a  reason  why  he 


FAITH    THE   SOLE   SAVING    ACT.  413 

should  be  forgiven  and  made  blessed  fijrever  ia 
heaven.  That  is  a  vary  instructive  anecdote  which 
St.  Simon  relates  respecting  the  last  hours  of  the 
profligate  Louis  XIV.  "  One  day," — he  says, — "  the 
kin<2:  recoverinjx  from  loss  of  consciousness  asked 
his  confessor,  Pere  Tellier,  to  give  him  absohitiou 
for  all  his  sins.  Pere  Tellier  asked  him  if  he  suffered 
much.  '  No,'  replied  the  king,  '  that's  what  troubles 
me.  I  should  like  to  suffer  more,  for  the  expiation 
of  my  sins.'"  Here  was  a  poor  mortal  who  had 
sj^ent  bis  days  in  carnality  and  transgression  of  the 
pui'e  law  of  God.  He  is  conscious  of  guilt,  and  feels 
the  need  of  its  atonement.  And  now,  upon  the 
very  edge  of  eternity  and  brink  of  doom,  he  pro- 
poses to  make  his  own  atonement,  to  be  his  own  re- 
deemer and  save  his  own  soul,  by  offering  up  to  the 
eternal  nemesis  that  was  racking  his  conscience  a 
few  hours  of  finite  suffering]:,  instead  of  betaking; 
himself  to  the  infinite  passion  and  agony  of  Calvary. 
This  is  a  ''  work ; "  and,  alas,  a  "  dead  work,"  as  St. 
Paul  so  often  denominates  it.  This  is  the  method 
of  justification  by  works.  But  when  a  man  adopts 
the  method  of  justification  by  faith,  his  course  is 
exactly  opposite  to  all  this.  Upon  discovering  that 
lie  owes  a  satisfaction  to  EternalJustice  for  the  sins 
that  are  past,  instead  of  holding  up  his  prayers,  or 
alms-giving,  or  penances,  or  moral  efforts,  or  any 
work  of  his  own,  he  holds  up  the  sacrificial  work 
of  Christ.  In  liis  prayer  to  God,  he  interposes  the 
agony  and  death  of  the  Great  Substitute  between 


414 


FAITH   THE    SOLE   SAVING    ACT. 


his  guilty  soul,  and  the  arrows  of  justice.^  He 
knows  that  the  very  best  of  his  own  works,  that 
even  the  most  perfect  obedience  that  a  creature 
could  render,  would  be  pierced  through  and  through 


'  The  relijiious  teacher  is  often 
asked  to  define  tlie  act  of  faith, 
and  explain  the  way  and  manner 
in  wliich  the  soul  is  to  exercise 
it.  '^  How  sliall  I  believe?"  is 
the  question  witli  whicli  the  anx- 
ious mind  often  rei)lies  to  the  iios- 
pel  injunction  to  believe.  With- 
out preteiidinjj  tliat  it  is  a  com- 
plete answer,  or  claiming  that  it  is 
possible,  in  tiie  strict  meuninfi  of 
the  word,  to  explain  so  simple 
and  so  jirofonnd  an  act  as  faith, 
we  think,  nevertheless,  that  it 
assists  the  inquirinEC  mind  to  say, 
uhat  wlioever  asl's  in  prayer  for 
any  one  of  the  benefits  of  C'lirist's 
redemption,  in  so  far  exercises 
faith  in  this  redemption.  Wlio- 
ever, for  example,  lifts  up  the 
supplication,  "  O  Lamb  of  God 
who  takest  away  the  sins  of  the 
world,  lii'ant  ine  thy  peace,"  in 
this  prayer  puts  faith  in  the  atone- 
ment. He  ti'usts  in  the  atone- 
ment, hy  pleading  the  atonement, 
— by  mentioning  it,  in  his  sup])li- 
3atioii,  as  the  reasi>n  why  he  may 
oe  forgiven.  In  like  manner,  he 
who  asks  tV)r  tlie  renewing  and 
sanctifying  influences  of  the  Holy 
Giiost  exercises  faiih  in  these  in- 
/iiiences.  This  is  the  mode  in 
wiiich  he  expresses  his  confidence 
m  the  power  of  God  to  accom- 
plish a  work  in  liis  heart  tiiat  is 
beyond  his  own  power.  What- 
ever, tiierefore,  b;'  tiie  particular 
benefit  in  Ciirist's  redem])tion 
tliat  one  wouhl  trust  in,  and  tiiere- 
by  m:ike  personally  his  own,  tiiat 
he  may  live  liy  it  and  be  lilest  l)y 
it, — be  it  tile  atoning  blood,  or  be 
it  the  iitilvvelliug  Spirit, — let  lum 


ash  for  that  benefit.  If  he  would 
trust  in  the  thing,  let  him  ask/br 
the  thing. 

Since  writing  the  above,  wo 
have  met  v.ith  a  corroboration  of 
this  view,  by  a  writer  of  the  high- 
est autiioi-ity  upon  such  points. 
"  Faith  is  that  inward  sense  and 
act,  of  which  prayer  is  the  ex- 
pression ;  as  is  evident,  because 
in  the  samemanner  as  tiie  freedom 
of  grace,  according  to  the  gos[)el 
covenant,  is  often  set  forth  by  this, 
that  he  that  helietes,  receives ; 
so  it  also  oftentimes  is  by  this, 
that  he  that  asks,  or  prays,  or 
calls  upon  God,  receives.  '  Ask 
and  it  shall  be  given  you  ;  seek 
and  ye  shall  find  ;  knock  and  it 
shall  be  opened  unto  you.  For 
every  one-tiiat  asketh,  receiveth  ; 
and  lie  tiiat  seeketh,  findetli ;  and 
to  him  that  knocketli,  it  shall  be 
opened.  And  all  things  whatso- 
ever ye  shall  ash  in  prayer,  l/eliev- 
ing,  ye  shall  receive  (Matt.  vii. 
7,  8;" Mark  xi.  24).  If  ye  alnde 
in  me  and  my  words  abide  in  you, 
ye  shall  ash  whit  ye  will,  and  it 
shall  be  done  untc  you'  (John  xv. 
7).  Prayer  is  often  plainly  spoken 
of  as  tiie  expression  of  faith.  As 
it  very  certainly  is  in  Romans  x. 
11-14:  'For  tlie  Sori|)ture  saith, 
Whosoever  helieveth  on  him  shall 
not  be  asliamed.  For  there  is  no 
difference  between  the  Jew  and 
the  Greek  :  for  the  same  Lord 
over  all  is  ricli  unto  all  that  coll 
upon  him;  for  whosoever  shall 
call  u[)on  the  name  of  the  Lord 
sliall  be  saved.  IIovv  tlien  shall 
they  call  on  iiim  in  whom  they 
have  not  believed.''  Christian  pray- 


FAITII    THE    SOLE    SAVING    ACT,  415 

b)'  the  glittering  shafts  of  violated  law.  And  there- 
fore he  takes  the  "  shield  of  faith."  He  places  the 
ol)lation  of  the  God-man, — not  his  own  work  and 
not  his  own  suffering,  but  another's  work  and  an- 
other's suffering, — between  himself  and  the  judicial 
veno^eance  of  the  Most  Hicrh.  And  in  so  doins:,  he 
works  no  work  of  his  own,  and  no  dead  work ;  but 
he  works  the  "  work  of  God ; "  he  helieves  on  Him 
whom  God  hatli  set  forth  to  be  a  propitiation  for 
his  sins,  and  not  for  his  only  but  for  the  sins  of  the 
whole  world. 

This  then  is  the  great  doctrine  which  our  Lord 
taught  the*  Jews,  when  they  asked  Him  what  par- 
ticular thing  or  things  they  must  do  in  order  to 
etei'nal  life.  The  apostle  Jolin,  who  recorded  tlie 
answer  of  Chi-ist  in  this  instance,  repeats  the  doc- 
trine again  in  his  first  Epistle :  "  Whatsoever  we 
ask,  we  receive  of  Him,  because  we  keep  His  com- 
niandment,  and  do  those  things  that  are  pleasing 
in  His  sight.  And  tliis  is  His  commandment,  that 
we  shouhl  believe  on  the  name  of  His  Son  Jesus 
Clirist"  (1  Jolm  iii.  22,  23).  The  whole  duty  of 
sinful  man  is  here  summed  up,  and  concentrated,  in 
the  duty  to  trust  in  another  person  than  himself, 


er  is  callpd    tlie  prayer  o^  faith  well  be  used  for  prayer  also;  sncli 

(.IniiH-s  V.  ]5).     'I  will  tliiit  uuMi  as  coming  to  God   or  Clirist.  and 

e\  erywliere   lift    up   holy   liaiuls,  looLing  to   Him.     'In  wiioiii   we 

without  wrath    and    (hnil/fing  (1  have    holdness    and    access    with 

'lini.   ii.   8).     Draw   near   in    fnll  coiitidence.  hy  tiie./JaV/t  of  liini' 

assurance  of  faith'  (Uvh.  s.  22).  Eph.  iii.    12)."     EnwAitns:   Ob- 

'I'he    same    expressions  that   are  strvations  concerning  Faith, 
used,  in  Scripture,  for  faith,  may 


416  FAITH    THE    SOLE    SAVING    ACT. 

and  in  another  work  than  his  own.  The  apostle, 
like  his  Lord  before  him,  employs  the  singular  num- 
ber :  "  This  is  His  commandment," — as  if  there  were 
no  otlier  commandment  upon  record.  And  this 
corresponds  with  the  answer  which  Paul  and  Silas 
gave  to  the  despairing  jailor  :  "  Believe  on  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ," — do  this  one  single  thing, — "  and 
thou  shalt  be  saved."  And  all  of  these  teachino-s 
accord  with  that  solemn  declaration  of  our  Lord: 
"  He  that  l)elieveth  on  the  Son  hath  everlasting 
life;  and  he  that  believeth  not  the  Son  shall  not 
see  life ;  but  the  wrath  of  God  abideth  on  him." 
In  the  matter  of  salvation,  where  there  is  faith  in. 
Christ,  there  is  everything ;  and  where  there  is  not 
faith  in  Christ,  there  is  nothing. 

1.  And  it  is  with  this  thought  that  we  would 
close  this  discourse,  and  enforce  the  doctrine  of  the 
text.  Do  whatever  else  you  may  in  the  matter  of 
religion,  you  have  done  nothing  until  you  have  be- 
lieved on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  whom  God  hath 
sent  into  the  world  to  be  the  pro})itiation  for  sin. 
There  are  two  reasons  for  this.  In  the  first  place,  it 
is  the  appointment  and  declaration  of  God^  that  man, 
if  saved  at  all,  must  be  saved  by  faith  in  the  Person 
and  Work  of  the  Mediator.  "Neither  is  there  sal- 
vation in  any  other :  for  there  is  none  other  name 
under  heaven  given  among  men,  whereby  we  must 
be  saved"  (Acts  iv.  12).  It  of  course  rests  entirely 
with  the  Most  High  God,  to  determine  the  mode  and 
manner  in  which  He  will  enter  into   negotiations 


FAITH  THE  SOLE  SAVING  ACT.        41 7 

with  His  creatures,  and  especially  with  His  rebel- 
lious creatures.  He  must  make  the  terms,  and  the 
creature  must  come  to  them.  Even,  therefore,  if  we 
could  not  see  the  reasonableness  and  adaptation  of 
the  method,  we  should  be  obligated  to  accept  it. 
The  creature,  and  particularly  the  guilty  creature, 
cannot  dictate  to  his  Sovereign  and  Judge  respecting 
the  terms  and  conditions  by  which  he  is  to  be  re- 
ceived into  favor,  and  secure  eternal  life.  Men 
overlook  this  fact,  when  they  presume  as  they 
do,  to  sit  in  judgment  upon  the  method  of  re- 
demj)tion  by  the  blood  of  atonement  and  to  quar- 
rel with  it. 

In  the  first  Punic  war,  Hannibal  laid  siege  to  Sa- 
guntum,  a  rich  and  strongly-fortified  city  on  the 
eastern  coast  of  Spain.  It  was  defended  with  a 
desperate  obstinacy  by  its  inhabitants.  But  the 
discipline,  the  energy,  and  the  persistence  of  the 
Carthaginian  army,  were  too  much  for  them ;  and 
just  as  the  city  was  about  to  fall,  Alorcus,  a  Span- 
ish chieftain,  and  a  mutual  friend  of  both  of  the 
contending  parties,  undertook  to  mediate  between 
them.  He  proposed  to  the  Sagfintines  that  they 
should  surrender,  allowing  the  Carthaginian  general 
to  make  his  oAvn  terms.  And  the  argument  he 
used  was  this  :  "  Your  city  is  captured,  in  any  ev^ent. 
Further  I'esistance  will  only  l)ring  down  upon  you 
the  rage  of  an  incensed  soldiery,  and  the  horrors  of 
a  sack.  Therefore,  surrender  immediately,  and  take 
\\  hatever  Hannibal  shall  ])lease  to  give.    You  cannot 


418  FAITH    THE    SOLE   SAVING    ACT. 

lose  anything  by  the  procedure,  and  you  may  gain 
somethino;,  even  tliou^-h  it  be  little."  '  Now,  al- 
though  there  is  no  resemblance  between  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  good  and  merciful  God  and  the 
cruel  purposes  and  conduct  of  a  heathen  warrior, 
and  we  shrink  from  bringing  the  two  into  any  kind 
of  juxtaposition,  still,  the  advice  of  the  wise  Alor- 
cus  to  the  Saguntines  is  good  advice  for  every  sin- 
ful man,  in  reference  to  his  relations  to  Eternal 
Justice.  We  are  all  of  us  at  the  mercy  of  God. 
Should  He  make  no  terms  at  all ;  had  He  never 
given  His  Son  to  die  for  our  sins,  and  never  sent 
His  Spirit  to  exert  a  subduing  influence  upon  our 
hard  hearts,  but  had  let  guilt  and  justice  take  their 
inexorable  course  wnth  us;  not  a  word  could  be  ut- 
tered against  the  procedure  by  heaven,  earth,  or 
hell.  No  creature,  anywhere  can  complain  of  jus- 
tice. That  is  an  attribute  that  cannot  even  be  at- 
tacked. But  the  All-Holy  is  also  the  All-Merciful. 
He  has  made  certain  terms,  and  has  offered  certain 
conditions  of  pardon,  without  asking  leave  of  His 
creatures  and  without  taking;  them  into  council,  and 
were  these  terms  as  strict  as  Draco,  instead  of  being 
as  tender  and  pitiful  as  the  tears  and  blood  of  Jesus, 
it  would  become  us  criminals  to  make  no  criticisms 
even  in  that  extreme  case,  but  accept  them  precisely 
as  they  were  offered  by  the  Sovereign  and  the  Arbi- 
ter.    We  exhort  you,  therefore,  to  take  these  terms 

'  Livius  :  Historia.  Lib.  xxi.  12. 


FAITH    THE    SOLE   SAVING    ACT.  419 

of  salvation  simply  as  they  are  given,  asking  no 
questions,  and  being  thankful  that  there  are  any 
terras  at  all  between  the  offended  majesty  of  Heaven 
and  the  guilty  criminals  of  earth.  Believe  on  Him 
whom  God  hath  sent,  because  it  is  the  appoint- 
ment and  declaration  of  God,  that  if  guilty  man  is 
to  be  saved  at  all,  he  must  be  saved  by  faith  in  the 
Person  and  Work  of  the  Mediator.  The  very  dis- 
position to  quariel  with  this  method  implies  arro- 
gance in  dealing  with  the  Most  High.  The  least 
inclination  to  alter  the  conditions  shows  that  the 
creature  is  attempting  to  criticise  the  Ci'eator,  and, 
what  is  yet  more,  that  the  criminal  has  no  true  per- 
ception of  his  crime,  no  sense  of  his  exposed  and 
hel{)less  situation,  and  presumes  to  dictate  the  terms 
of  his  own  pardon  ! 

2.  We  might  therefore  leave  the  matter  here, 
and  there  would  be  a  sufficient  reason  for  exercising 
the  act  of  iaith  in  Christ.  But  there  is  a  second 
and  additional  reason  which  we  will  also  briefly 
urge  upon  you.  Not  only  is  it  the  Divine  ap- 
pointment, that  man  shall  be  saved,  if  saved  at  all, 
by  the  sul)stituted  woj-k  of  another;  but  there  are 
iife<h!^  there  are  crying  wcuits,  in  the  human  con- 
science, that  can  be  suf)pUed  by  no  other  methoil. 
There  is  a  perfect  a> lactation  between  the  Re- 
demption that  is  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  the  guilt  of 
sinners.  As  we  have  seen,  we  could  reasonably 
urge  you  to  believe  in  Him  whom  God  hath  sent, 
simply  because    God   has  sent    Him,  and    because 


420  FAITH    THE   SOLE    SAVING    ACT. 

He  has  told  you  that  He  will  save  you  through 
no  other  name  and  in  no  other  way,  and  will  save 
you  in  this  name  and  in  this  way.  But  we  now 
urge  you  to  the  act  of  faith  in  this  substituted 
work  of  Christ,  because  it  has  an  atoning  virtue, 
and  can  pacify  a  perturbed  and  angiy  conscience ; 
can  wash  out  the  stains  of  guilt  that  are  grained 
into  it ;  can  extract  the  sting  of  sin  which  ulcerates 
and  burns  there.  It  is  the  idea  of  expiation  and 
satif^faction  that  we  now  single  out,  and  press  upon 
your  notice.  Sin  must  be  expiated, — expiated 
either  by  the  blood  of  the  criminal,  or  by  the 
blood  of  his  Substitute.  You  must  either  die  for 
your  own  sin,  or  some  one  who  is  able  and  willing 
must  die  for  you.  This  is  founded  and  fixed  in 
the  nature  of  God,  and  the  nature  of  man,  and  the 
nature  of  sin.  There  is  an  eternal  and  necessary 
connection  between  ci'ime  and  penalty.  The  wages 
of  sin  is  death.  But,  all  this  inexorable  necessity 
has  been  completely  provided  for,  by  the  sacrificial 
work  of  the  Son  of  God.  In  the  gospel,  God  satis- 
fies His  own  justice  for  the  sinner,  and  now  offers 
you  the  full  benefit  of  the  satisfaction,  if  you  will 
humbly  and  penitently  accept  it.  '^  What  compas- 
sion can  equal  the  words  of  God  the  Father  addressed 
to  the  sinner  condemned  to  eternal  punishment,  and 
having  no  means  of  redeeming  himself:  ^Take  my 
Only-Begotten  Son,  and  make  Him  an  offering  for 
thyself;'  or  the  w^ords  of  the  Son  :  '  Take  Me,  and 
ransom  thy  soul  ? '     For  this  is  what  both  say,  when 


FAITU    THE    SOLE   SAVING    ACT.  421 

tliey  invite  and  draw  man  to  faith  in  the  gospel."  *  In 
urging  you,  therefore,  to  trust  in  Clirist's  vicarious 
sufferings  for  sin,  instead  of  going  down  to  hell  and 
suffering  for  sin  in  your  own  person  ;  in  entreating 
you  to  escape  the  stroke  of  justice  upon  yourself, 
by  believing  in  Him  who  was  smitten  in  your 
stead,  who  "was  wounded  for  your  transgressions 
and  bruised  for  your  iniquities;"  in  beseeching 
you  to  let  tlie  Eternal  Son  of  God  be  your  Substi- 
tute in  this  awful  judicial  transaction  ;  we  are  sum- 
moning you  to  no  arbitrary  and  irrational  act. 
The  peace  of  God  which  it  will  introduce  into 
your  conscience,  and  the  love  of  God  which  it  will 
shed  abroad  through  your  soul,  will  be  the  most 
convincing  of  all  proofs  that  the  act  of  faith  in 
the  great  Atonement  does  no  violence  to  the  ideas 
and  principles  of  the  human  constitution.  No  act 
that  contravenes  those  intuitions  and  convictions 
which  are  part  and  particle  of  man's  moral  nature 
could  possibly  produce  peace  and  joy.  It  would 
be  revolutionary  and  anarchical.  The  soul  could 
not  rest  an  instant.  And  yet  it  is  the  uniform 
testimony  of  all  believers  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
that  the  act  of  simple  confiding  faith  in  His  blood 
and  righteousness  is  the  most  peaceful,  the  most 
joyful  act  they  ever  performed, — nay,  that  it  was 
the  first  blessed  experience  they  ever  felt  in  this 
world  of  sin,  this  world  of  remorse,  this  world  of 

•  Ansklm  :  Cur  Deus  Homo  f  II.  20. 


422  FAITH   THE   SOLE   SAVING    ACT. 

fears   and   forebodings   concerning  judgment   and 
doom. 

Is  the  question,  then,  of  the  Jews,  pressing  upon 
your  mind  ?  Do  you  ask,  What  one  particular 
single  thing  shall  I  do,  that  I  may  be  safe  for  time 
and  eternity  ?  Hear  the  answer  of  the  Son  of  God 
Himself:  "  This  is  the  work  of  God,  that  ye  believe 
on  Him  whom  He  hath  sent." 


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The  work  will  be  divided  into  EIGHT  SECTIONS,  which  it  is  expected  will  be  compri.sed 
in  as  many  volumes,  .and  each  volume  will  be  .a  royal  octavo  Typographically,  special  paini 
has  been  taken  to  adapt  the  work  to  the  use  of  older  readers  and  stu<ients. 

NB. — The  American  edition  of  the  Bible  Commentary  is  pruited  from  stereotype  plates, 
duplicated  from  those  upon  which  the  English  edition  is  printed,  and  it  is  fully  equal  to 
that  in  every  roapect. 

THE   FIK8T  VOLUME  OF 

THE  BIBLE   COMMENTARY 

Is  now  ready.     It  contains: 

THE    PENTATEUCH. 

The  books  of  which  are  divided  as  follows,  among  the  contributors  named  : 

PP«jpc<q  (  Rl-  Rev.  E.  Harold  Bbowne,  Bishop  of  Ely,  and 

"  ■)      author  of  Exposilion  oj  the  'I'hirtyHUie  Article* 

EXODUS Chap.  I-XIX.    The  Editor. 

LEVITICUS  Rev.  Samuel  Clark,  M. A. 

"  Chap.  XX.  to  the  End,  and 

NUMBERS    AND    DEUTER-   (  Rev.  T.  E.  Espin,  B.D.,  Warden  of  Queen's  Col 
ONOMY (     lege,  Birmingham. 

Slaking  one  vol.  royal  8vo,  of  nearly  1,000  pages,  being  the  only  complete  Commentary 
upon  the  Pent.ateneh,  in  one  vohinie.  in  the  English  language.  Price  in  cloth  $5.00,  lesi 
than  one-half  that  of  the  English  edition. 

Full  prospectufies,  with  division  of  sections  and  names  of  contributors,  sent  to  »ny 
kdilrew  on  application.     Single  copies  sent  post-paid,  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

SCRIBNER.  ARMSTRONG  &  CO..  654  Broadway.  fJ  Y. 


A  NE^A^  SERIES  OF 

t^^t  IIIfusfratFb  Hifirflrg  nP  THonbpps, 

ENLARGED    IN  SIZE,  IN  A    NEW  STVLF.    OF  BINDING,  AND 
EDITED    BY   PROMINENT  AMERICAN  AUTHORS. 
The  extraordinary  success  of  the  Ii,li;strated  Librarv  op  Wonders  has  encoiiraced 
tlic  puljlishers  to  still  further  efforts  to  increase  the  attractions  and  value  of  these  admirabla 
li'Wiks.     In  the  new  series,  which  has  just  been  commenced  with  The  Wonders  of  Water 
tl:e  size  of  the  volumes  is  increased,  the  style  of  binding  changed,  and  the  successive  vol- 
umes are  edited  by  distinguished  American  authors  and  scientists. 
The  following  volumes  will  introduce 

THE   SECOND  SERIES  OF   THE 

Illustrated  Library  of  Wonders. 


WONDERS  OF  ELECTRICITY.  ICd- 
itcd  by  Dr.  J.  W.  Armstrong,  President 
of  the  State  Normal  School,  P'redonia, 
N.Y.  $1.50 

WONDERS  OF  VEGETATION. 
(Over  40  Illustrations.)  Edited  by  Pruf 
SCHRLE   De  VekB.  $1.50 


WONDERS  OF  WATER.  (64  Illus- 
trations.) Edited  by  I'ruf.  ScHELK  I)E 
Vkkh.  $1.50 

WONDERS  OF  THE  MOON.  (With 
50  Illustrations.)  Edited,  with  additions, 
by  Miss  Maria  Miichell,  of  Vassat 
College,  Poughkeepsie.  $1.50 


THE  FIRST  SERIES  OF 

^\^  niusfrahb  Hii&perg  of  Monbppx 

Comprises  Twenty  Volumes,  containing  over  1,000  Beautiful  Illustrations. 

These  Twcntj'  Volumes  in  cloth,  or  in  half  roan,  gilt  top,  are  furnished  in  a  black  walnut 
ca.se  for  $30.00  (the  case  gratis),  or  they  may  be  bought  singly  or  in  libraries,  classitied 
according  to  their  subjects  as  below,  each  i  vol.  i2mo.     Price  per  vol.  $1.50. 


WONDERS  OF  NATURE. 


Wo.  I II us. 
43 


THE  HUMAN  BODY 
THE  SUBLIME  IN  NATURE  . 
INTELLIGENCE  OF  ANIMALS 
THUNDER  AND  LIGHTNING  . 
BOTTOM  OF  THE  SEA 
THE  HEAVENS  .  .  .  . 
6  \'ols.  in  a  neat  box,  $9. 


WONDERS  OF  ART. 


ITALIAN  ART 
EUROPEAN  ART    . 
ARCHITECTURE     . 
GLASS-MAKING     . 
WONDERS  OF  POMPEII 
EGYPT  3,300  YEARS  AGO 

6  Vols,  in  a  ncal  bo.\,  §9, 


No.  IHus. 
.     28 


WONDERS  OF  SCIENCE. 


THE  SUN.     By  Guillemin 
WONDERS  OF  HEAT 
OPTICAL  WONDKRS    . 
WONDERS  OF  ACOUSTICS 

4  Vols,  in  a  neat  bo.v,  $6. 


No.  Illus. 
.         .     58 
■     93 


ADVENTURESS  EXPLOITS. 


No.  lUus. 
WONDERFUL  ESCAPES     .  26 

BODILY  STRENGTH    &    SKILL    70 
BALLOON  ASCENTS    .        .  30 

GREAT  HUNTS  .  .31 

4  Vols,  in  a  neat  box,  .*6. 


SUPPLEMENTARY  VOLUMES  TO  THE  FIRST  SERIES. 


MOUNTAIN 

Illustr.TtDns.) 
Hkadlkv. 


ADVENTURES.      (39 
Edited    by    Hon.    J.     i'. 


WONDERS    OF    ENGRAVING.     (34 

Illustr.itions. )    Translated  from  the  I'rench 
of  Georges  Duflessis. 


X^T"  Any  or  all  the  volumes  of  the  Illl'STRAted  Library  of  Wonders  sent  to  any 
•ddress,  post  or  express  charges  paid,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 

A  Dfscripth'e  Catalogue  of  the  Wonder  Librauv,  with  sf>ecim»n  Illustrations, 
tent  to  any  address,  on    aJ>/>lication. 

ScRiBNER,  Armstrong  &  Co.,  654  Broadway,  N.  Y 


A  NEW  AND  VALUABLE  SERIES 
For  Readers  of  all  Ages  and  for  the  School  &  Family  Library 


The  Illustrated  Llbrary 

OF 

TR_AVEL,  EXPLOITATION, 

AND     ADVENTURE. 

EDITED    BV 

BAYARD     TAYLOR. 


The  extraordinary  popularity  of  the  Illustrated  Library  of  Wonders  (nearly  en* 
and  a  kalf  million  copies  having  been  sold  in  this  country  and  in  France)  is  considered  by 
the  publishers  a  suflficient  guarantee  of  the  success  of  an  Illustratf.d  Library  of  Travtuu 
Exploration,  and  Adventure,  embracing  the  same  decidedly  interesting  and  permanently 
valuable  features.  Upon  this  new  enterprise  the  Publishers  will  bring  to  bear  all 
their  wide  and  constantly  increasing  resources.  Neither  pains  nor  expense  will  be 
spared  in  making  their  new  Library  not  only  one  of  the  msst  elegantly  and  profusely 
illustrated  works  of  the  day,  but  at  the  same  tkne  one  of  the  most  graphic  and  fas- 
cinating in  narrative  and  description. 

Each  volume  will  be  complete  in  itself,  and  will  contain,  first,  a  brief  preliminary  sketch 
of  the  country  to  which  it  is  devoted  ;  next,  such  an  outline  of  previous  explorations  as  may 
be  necessary  to  explain  what  has  been  achieved  by  later  ones  ;  and  finally,  a  condensation 
of  one  or  more  of  the  most  important  narratives  of  recent  travel,  accompanied  with  illus:ta- 
tjons  of  the  scenery,  architecture,  and  life  of  the  races,  drawn  only  from  the  most  authentic 
sources.  An  occasional  volume  will  also  be  introduced  in  the  Library,  detaiUng  the  exploits 
of  individual  adventurers.  The  entire  series  will  thus  furnish  a  clear,  picturesque,  and  prac- 
tical survey  of  our  present  knowledge  of  lands  and  races  as  supplied  by  the  accounts  ol 
travellers  and  explorers.  The  Library  will  therefore  be  both  entertaining  and  instructive 
to  young  as  well  as  old,  and  the  publishers  intend  to  make  it  a  necessity  in  every  femily  ol 
culture  and  in  every  private  and  public  library  in  America.  The  name  of  I^yard  Taylob 
as  editor  is  an  assurance  of  the  accuracy  and  higb  literary  character  of  the  publication. 


The  following  Volumes  are  Now  Ready  : 

JAPAN,  ARABIA, 

WILD  MEN  AND  WILD  BEASTS. 

SOUTH    AFRICA. 


Will  be  published  soon  : 

The  Yellowstone.  Central  Africa. 


The  volumes  will  be  uniform  in  size  (i2mo),  and  in  price,  $i  50  each. 
'Catalogues,  with  specimen  Ilhistratioits,  sent  on  application. 

SCRIBNER,  Armstrong  &  Co.,  654  Broadway,  N.  Y 


